


Rainbow Connection

by runningwithshadows



Category: Zoom (2006)
Genre: Area 52, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 10:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 65,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwithshadows/pseuds/runningwithshadows
Summary: Yes, it was a kids movie made all the way back in 2006 when Tim Allen and Courteney Cox were still slightly relevant. Is the fact that no one cares about this film to this day going to stop me from writing about it? No. Because, this is now my own story. If you're interested in developing characters, pursuing neglected romantic subplots, and introducing plausible backstories, then you've certainly come to the right place. If you're just here to read about four kids fighting evil, maybe tune out. Up to you.





	1. Prologue: Sucker For Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:  
> -Self harm  
> -Eating disorder  
> -Death of a loved one  
> -Drug/alcohol abuse  
> -Smoking  
> -Abusive relationship

  _"Take my hand through the flames, I torture you. I'm a slave to your games, I'm just a sucker for pain. Pressure from the man got us all in rebellion, we're going to go to war without failure. Love and loyalty, that's what we stand for. Alienated by society, all this pressure gives me anxiety. Walk slow through the fire, like who's going to try us? Feeling the world go against us so we put the world on our shoulders."_

 

Jack Shepherd has always been his own main character, his entire selfish world revolved for decades around his own self-righteous notions. It was high time that the man learned that he wasn't the only person in the world. Precisely why it's time we learn a little bit more about Miss Marsha Holloway - world renowned psychologist working at Area 52 hidden away in the Californian Death Valley mountains.

But, before she became who she was today, she was simply Marsha - a girl living in China Lake Acres California, a small area just outside of Ridgecrest situated in that same dry dessert. The coincidental aspect of it all was that Jack Shepherd - three years older than she - was living his own life merely twenty minutes away though the two hadn't a clue who the other was.

All things considered, the mid eighties should have been their glory years.

But, their adolescent experiences were quite different from each other. Had they met back then, things perhaps would have been different. But, the universe seemed determined to provide heartache for the both of them. For Jack, his teenage years were like that of an old Molly Ringwald movie. Though on the weekends he was being trained at a military facility to further develop his world-saving powers, he went to high school like any other teenage boy during the week.

He'd roll up to Burroughs High School in his fast blue car with a new girl in the passenger seat every week, he indulged in faded blue jeans paired with torn denim jackets, he wore dirty Converse sneakers and grew out his light brown hair. He used to sneak cigarettes in the bathroom before class, he watched kept up with Misfits of Science, he checked his look in the mirror on the inside of his locker, he took girls to the drive-in with the intentions of getting frisky in the backseat.

Him and Alex started dating when he was a senior, but by then he was ready to move on from high school and start his life. He was Captain Zoom, after all - the man in charge of keeping the peace on earth. He had no time for adolescent dramatics anymore. It was in the early summer of nineteen eighty-six that the Gamma-13 incident took place and his entire world was ripped to shred. From that day forth, Jack Shepherd was never the same. His near-flawless teenage years were nothing but lucky - the calm before the storm.

It was different for Marsha, right from the start. She was born a middle child, to a family of artists. They lived in what could only be deemed a mansion on the right side of the tracks, in a gated community ideal for raising four  _perfect_ kids. Simon Holloway was the co-owner of a very successful music label when he married Catherine, an aspiring painter. Together, they grew to be wealthy and well known, and after a few years of marriage, Catherine gave birth to their first daughter, Katie.

Katie grew to be a tall, ambitious, self-starter. Her dark bobbed hair paired with those sultry brown eyes forced her into the spotlight and she wouldn't have had it any other way. Three years later, William was born. Liam may as well have been the male version of Katie with his dark curls and darker eyes, though he was far more passive than she. He liked to look out for other people, and refused to place his own wellbeing above that of others.

A couple years later, Marsha came into the world. Her dark brown curls were the same as her mothers, as were her delicate freckles and porcelain skin, but those blue eyes were without a doubt her father's doing. Sarah was the youngest, and she grew to be the tallest of them all. Of course, her blonde hair stood out against her brown eyes, but both she and Marsha possessed their mother's freckles.

And that was their small family - of course, before it all went to hell. For a while, Marsha too lived a typical adolescence. Though, she constantly felt as though she didn't fit in due to her lack of interest in the arts that her family loved as well as her secret powers that she'd been harbouring from the world. It wasn't as if she didn't  _try,_ she tried and  _succeeded_ in painting, singing, dancing, figure skating, and anything else that her artistic parents practically forced her into, but she found that she couldn't rely on those trivial pursuits. She was a girl who  _needed_ security in her life, and the only thing that she knew she could truly trust were cold hard facts.

So, while her older siblings pursued music and her younger sister followed the art of dance, Marsha chose her extracurriculars in the form of advanced placement physics and extra chemistry classes. For that reason, she'd never quite fit into her own family. Moreover, she wasn't anything special within the walls of her home. Not only was she different from them on a seemingly molecular level, she was not the oldest child and therefore bestowed all the pride, she was not the only boy and therefore considered valiant, and she was not the youngest and therefore treasured as a small child.

At least at school she could attempt to live a normal life so long as she managed to keep her powers hidden. No, she wasn't the most popular girl at school all thanks to the fact that she wore glasses and did her schoolwork, but no one could deny the fact that she was positively beautiful. All in all - until tragedy struck, of course - her own adolescence was fairly normal. She coated her eyelids in the trendiest neon eye shadow and scoured magazines for ways to make her curly hair even bigger. She kept a diary filled with secrets and wrote for the school newspaper, she danced around her room to the sound of Cyndi Lauper as she lip-synced into her hairbrush and stayed up all night on the phone with her best friend.

And perhaps had Jack Shepherd and Marsha Holloway made each other's acquaintance back then, their story may have begun at a much earlier age. She would have been the smartest girl in first period and he would have been the coolest guy who never  _went_ to first period. Perhaps she would have fawned over him from the bleachers while he sunk the winning basket after school every Thursday, perhaps they would have eaten lunch at opposite sides of the courtyard but made eyes at each other all the while.

She would have blushed when he winked and he would have used one of the many overdone lines that he had tucked away in the back of his mind to get her out on a date. They would have gotten friendly under the bleachers in the gymnasium, he would have snuck into her bedroom through an open window, they would have been the couple that everyone at school wanted to emulate. The bad boy and the good girl, just another rendition of Danny and Sandy or Romeo and Juliet.

But, as we all know, this was not their reality.

Their high school years had potential. He  _was_ the captain of each and every sports team, he  _was_ the leather-wearing bad boy who got up to no good, he  _was_ the most popular guy with the best hair to walk the halls on the days that he bothered to show up. But, he did it all without her.

And, in the beginning, she  _did_ wear bright outfits complete with scrunchies and matching leg warmers, she  _did_ tease her hair until she became immune to the smell of hairspray, she  _did_ join everyone for Saturday nights at the drive-in and Wednesdays at the pizza joint. But, that was before that pesky ominous cloud of darkness settled around  _both_ of their realities.

He shouldn't have taken it all for granted. She should have opened her eyes.

But, for the two of them, the Summer of nineteen eighty-six was not spent living the American dream nor living every day like their last. In fact, they'd both wound up in the same hospital on the same day, and the rest is history.

 

 

> _"I'm devoted to destruction, a full dosage of detrimental dysfunction. I'm dying slow but the devil's trying to rush me. See, I'm a fool for pain, might cut my head off right after I slit my throat. And if I get stung, I get stoked, might choke like I chewed a chunk of charcoal. That's why my heart's cold, full of sorrow, the lost soul. And only Lord knows when I'm coming to the crossroads."_

 

Marsha Holloway was fifteen years old and wanted to quit modelling.

She sat at her kitchen counter peering over an open biology notebook but all she could think of was how she would tell her parents. It should have been easy by now, quitting. She'd quit ballet, she'd quit figure skating, she'd quit singing, she'd quit piano, she'd quit painting, what was one more? She simply couldn't bear to be known as the disaster of the family, the one child that no one talked about, the black sheep.

But, her shoots were getting in the way of her extra credit science classes, and everyone knew which she'd rather be attending when it came down to it. Besides, her mathematics grades were slipping - math had always been the  _one_ academic that didn't quite come easily to her - and if she wanted to have time for a tutoring session, she'd need a free schedule.

Katie had graduated three years ago already and she'd left to study across the world in Melbourne, Australia after being offered a record deal by some small company. Liam had graduated early with honours last year and took off for Manchester to attend Maunders School of Popular Music. As for Sarah, she was merely thirteen years old but had been transferred to a school in New York as she'd been accepted to further her artistic studies at Queens Dance Academy.

Life for her siblings had taken off early. The three of them were off around the world in various cities doing what they loved while Marsha was stuck at home in China Lake, struggling to keep up with her academic studies as well as the everyday pressures of high school.

Currently, her parents were on their way home from some business meeting in San Diego, and therefore Marsha had no idea how much time she had to formulate her formal speech regarding why she thought it would be best to quit modelling. Her sixteenth birthday was tomorrow, she was already a month into her junior year, she could no longer waste her time on trivial subject such as modelling when she had academic credit to worry about. She wanted to go to Stanford, which was on the other side of the state and had an acceptance rate of five percent. She couldn't afford distractions.

She didn't know who she had been expecting at the door when the doorbell rang rather eerily, but it certainly wasn't two police officers.

It was supposed to be a good day. She turned sixteen tomorrow, she was planning on throwing a party at her friend's house, she'd just gotten one hundred percent on a recent physics test, Bruce Springsteen had released newest hit single, life was good. The September of nineteen eighty-five wasn't supposed to end in tragedy.

Instead, Marsha's emotions shut off the moment she opened her heavy front door. Her legs went numb, but she'd managed to step aside to let the policemen into the house, her words came out jumbled, but they were spoken strongly, her head was racing and yet it was perfectly quiet. The phrases that the officers spoke bounced around inside her mind, not completely registering but not being ignored.

_"You're Simon and Catherine Holloway's daughter?"_

_"Miss Holloway, you may want to sit down."_

_"Your parents were in an accident just north of Los Angeles."_

_"Their car was totalled and found in a ditch."_

_"They were pronounced dead two hours ago at Dignity Health Hospital."_

_"We offer our sincerest condolences."_

_"Is there anyone you can stay with tonight?"_

The death of Marsha's parents was only the beginning.

Her birthday came and went, and it was likely the worst day of her life. On the day that she turned sixteen, Marsha Holloway spent hours in meetings with different lawyers and social service workers, all trying to sort out the mess that was her current life.

Her parents, as it turned out, may have had some secrets of their own. Such as the fact that they were not only bankrupt, but so far in debt that it appeared as though there was no possible way out of it. And because their will had been written illegitimately and  _many_ years ago, it was not usable in court. Meaning that their children got nothing. Which was fine for the others since Katie and Liam were making their own money oversees and Sarah's tuition was being covered through dance scholarships. But, Marsha? Marsha was screwed.

In New York, Sarah had been placed with a foster family that treated her fairly and properly, back in California, Marsha had been  _thrown_ into the unforgiving foster system. She never once got placed with a family for more than one night, and her future didn't look bright in the least. Her old house up on the hill had been foreclosed and  _everything_ that her family had ever owned was sold as a way to pay back the irreversible debt that her parents had drowned themselves in.

The funeral was held on October seventh, and from that moment on, Marsha Holloway was numb. She did not light up the halls of China Lake Secondary with her bright eyes and unforgettable smile, she did not pour her heart and soul into her schoolwork, she no longer acted as a friend to all and the most bubbly person at the high school. She'd slowly but surely closed herself up.

She still managed to finish her junior year at the top of her class, but she was not the girl that she used to be. And that was all only going to get worse thanks to a pair of dark brown eyes.

Marsha met Daniel Spencer in July of nineteen eighty-five. Since her parent's death, she'd been far less reserved about the places in which she chose to spend her time. While ten months ago, she would have spent her nights either indoors doing schoolwork or out with her few girl friends at the drive-in or the arcade or the ice cream parlour. Now, she partied out in the sticks behind town, she'd copped a fake id that let her into Ridgecrest bars and clubs, she pulled up a lawn chair in some troublemakers backyard and gathered around a bonfire to pass around cigarettes and see which one of the guys could chug their beers quickest.

And, she didn't mind. She was merely evolving. Many people party and get up to no good in high school, and Marsha had simply decided that she no longer really cared about being the top of the class or forcing herself into far too many extracurriculars or always trying to be the good girl around the school. She was done trying to be positive and optimistic about anything and everything. She'd seen too much darkness for that.

But, it was from across that raging bonfire that she'd locked eyes with Daniel Spencer for the first time. And from that moment on, her life would never be the same.

 

 

> _"So, I don't fear shit but tomorrow. And I'm a sucker for pain, it's nothing but pain, you just fucking complain, you aren't as tough as you claim. Jut stay up in your lane, I'm going to jump from a plane or stand in front of a train, because I'm a sucker for pain."_

All it took was that one night, one conversation, one spark, and Marsha and Daniel were forever connected.

Clearly they both held an attraction for the other, and he offered something that Marsha had never really experienced before - danger. Which is precisely why she told herself that she could no longer worry about the uncertainty, she was past that point. Instead, they dove headfirst into an intense, serious relationship. He was her first everything, there was no taking that back.

And, of course, she'd been warned by his friends and people who knew him that he was dangerous and not good for her. She'd heard the stories and did what she always did - chose to see the best in people. Marsha had always been the kind of girl who followed the notion that everyone was innocent until proven guilty, and even  _when_ they were proven guilty, she'd give them as many second chances as they asked for. Precisely why she was constantly getting hurt.

At first, it was merely psychological.

They had their little honeymoon period over the summer and throughout the first month or two of her senior year, but that was that.

He was two years older and nothing about the way that he made his living was legal nor safe. He worked at a construction site out of town, that was what he always told her, and it wasn't exactly a lie. On the side, of course, he dealt and used various drugs. Were it simply dime bags of weed, it wouldn't have been a problem. But, we were talking cocaine, molly, heroine, you name it.

And it all took its toll on Marsha, but it happened so gradually that she didn't even see what he was doing to her. She took up smoking, she never  _wanted_ to wear anything but black and heavy leathers, she started skipping school so much that it drastically affected her perfect G.P.A., she began to close herself off from her real friends. Everyone that she'd once trusted, she now turned away from as if Daniel was the only person in her life.

Which was precisely what he wanted. With his manipulative words and not-so-empty threats, he'd convinced her to isolate herself from the world and centre her entire being on  _him._ And everyone thought that they were perfect. That  _they_ were the greaser from the wrong side of the tracks and the good girl gone bad. But, it was all a lie. He was not the bad boy who needed taming and she was not the high-strung girl that needed to let loose. They were two people that never should have gotten involved with each other.

Because, it only took that short period of time before his psychological torments turned into physical anguishes.

The day that he first hit her was also the day that he first told her he loved her. And that was where the delusions first began to take over her mind. He hit her, but she deserved it, because she hadn't returned his phone call soon enough. His behaviour was justified, and she in no way deserved to hear that sweet " _I love you"_ from him. She was nothing but privileged to be dating him, let alone to be loved by him. If being jostled around now and then was the price she payed, then so be it. She had  _no one_ else, she couldn't lose him.

He'd promised that it would just be that one time, and she thought that he meant it, because it truly didn't happen for another month. And that period after he'd hit her was blissful. He treated her like a queen, he stepped carefully around her, he made her feel truly special. Until it happened again.

At that point, Marsha's estranged aunt Shirley Slater had returned to China Lake and without warning, Marsha was shoved into her care. But Shirley was a scary woman herself, she was severely alcoholic, to the point where Marsha would have to make sure that she didn't drink herself to death every night. To make matters worse, she lived in an old broken town trailer park on the wrong side of the tracks. Marsha spent a month there, sleeping on the couch when she wasn't sleeping God only knew where else, being verbally attacked day in and day out by her substance troubled aunt.

When Daniel suggested that Marsha move into his own trailer in that same trailer park that they were in one of their blissful periods. He'd flown off the handle and launched himself into a physically violent fit against her earlier that week and was now doing his best to make up for it with flowers and coffee dates and sweet kisses on cheeks. During these moments, he was the perfect boyfriend. And in Marsha's delusional, manipulated mind, she  _looked forward_ to the days that Daniel would hit her, knowing that the aftermath would be ever so pleasant. It was insane, but she was beyond repair now.

Besides, she was so used to feeling nothing at all in her numb, empty life, so she didn't complain when he took his anger out on her fragile body.

Sometimes the slaps were quick and subtle, if he was angry at the world as opposed to her and simply needed an outlet. But, when it was her own doing, the hits were more like punches. If she misspoke, if she wasn't in the mood, if she spent too much time with her friends, if she did something without consulting him first, if she spoke her mind, he'd attack her brutally. A bloody lip here, a black eye there, a bruised shoulder on one side, a broken rib on the other. There were a few times when she'd needed a trip to the emergency room because her injuries required a splint or stitches, but they'd always constructed some playful story of her clumsiness that resulted in her own injury. The doctors never bought it, but they also never did anything about it.

Meanwhile, Marsha's best friend Lillie was growing concerned. She'd known her friend since they were children, and suddenly Marsha was blocking her out of her life and showing up to school with her arm in a cast for the second time that year. Something was up, and no one could ignore that any longer.

By nineteen eighty-six, halfway through Marsha's senior year,  _everyone_ knew what was going on.

Makeup could only hide so much, and Marsha's broken smiles didn't even begin to cover the pain that she was feeling. Besides, she'd stopped eating months ago when Daniel had suggested that she shouldn't weigh more than one hundred and ten pounds and she weighed one hundred and  _twelve._ Now, she was down to ninety-five, and her pale skin glowed as if she was some kind of ghost.

Which, in hindsight, is what she became. When she did bother to show up to school, her presence went fairly unnoticed as she was nothing more than a shadow of a girl dressed in black sitting at the back on the class and bugging out before lunch. Her friends could only do so much for her when she insisted - or rather, her  _boyfriend_ insisted - on cutting them out of her life. But, she was dwindling. And fast.

She worked in a diner to make her own money and Daniel had quit his construction job to traffic his father's drugs once and for all. Any time Marsha would pass her aunt Shirley around the trailer park or in town, the older woman would spit on her and call her a slut, Marsha went home to a double-wide where she never knew if she would be greeted with a kiss or a fist, her life was nothing like she'd imagined it would be.

But, at least she had someone. Daniel might have been a sick son of a bitch who was now hooked on cocaine and hitting her nearly twice a day, but at least he was the closest thing that she had to a family. She couldn't leave, where would she go? Who would love her? Besides, Daniel had told her that if she ever left him, he'd kill himself. She couldn't be the one responsible for something like that.

Come prom, the balance of the world was hanging by a thread.

While Marsha Holloway powdered her nose in front of the bathroom mirror in her boyfriend's trailer, she couldn't help feeling excited about something for the first time in over a year. Tonight, she was not an orphan trying to make her way through the harsh world while her boyfriend beat her to smithereens behind closed doors, no. She was merely a seventeen year old girl wearing a raspberry coloured dress, getting ready for her senior prom with her best friend by her side.

It had taken her two hours to do her makeup, thanks to the fact that she had to cover up not only the bruises on her face, but those on her shoulders and collarbones as well. Usually, she wore turtlenecks and such to school and in public so that no questions would be asked, but she hadn't managed to find a long sleeved turtleneck prom dress.

She was taking Daniel, even though he had already graduated years ago, but the school didn't mind. If she insisted on going to prom - which she did, she was determined to have at least  _one_ last bit of normalcy in her high school life - then he sure as hell wasn't about to let her go with someone else. He'd kill her before he let her take one of her guy friends to prom.

Meanwhile, out on the battlefield somewhere, a twenty-year old Jack Shepherd was watching his team get the shit kicked out of them at the hand of his own brother. But, that's a story for another time.

The night itself was a blur, but not in the way that Marsha was used to. Sometimes, when she'd get drunk at a house part or let Daniel convince her to indulge herself in whatever drug of choice he'd brought for them that night, her nights would go by quickly and foggily, with bits and pieces missing here and there before she woke up hungover. This was different.

It all started well. Her and Lillie met Daniel and Lillie's boyfriend Andy in front of the school, they'd exchanged corsages and boutonnieres, tender words were spoken, and they'd entered the dance arm in arm.

Halfway through the night, everything started going to hell.

Marsha suddenly found herself standing alone in the middle of the crowded banquet room. Daniel had excused himself to the bathroom, likely to snort a line, Lillie was being called up onstage to receive her prom queen crown, and now, Ray Anderson from homeroom was standing in front of Marsha, far too close. He hadn't realized that she was here with a date, because that date was nowhere to be seen, and it truly was an innocent interaction.

Ray began talking her up, flashing a smile and hazarding a wink, asking if she'd like to dance and good-naturedly putting an arm around her. He was confused when Marsha suddenly looked as if he was threatening her life and she tried her hardest to push him away from her, warning him about some incoming threat that he didn't quite understand.

When Daniel Spencer appeared beside them, his eyes red from the drugs and his body shaking from its effects, Ray understood and backed away with his arms up in a mock surrender. Meanwhile, Marsha was grabbed harshly and unapologetically by her boyfriend, dragged out of the school, and shoved into his old pickup truck in which he drove them back to the trailer park in eery silence.

Marsha knew what was coming for her, but she was numb. She was calm, she knew that she deserved it for not being more careful, she should have known better than to expect a normal night. When they stepped into the double-wide, he tore into her. Throwing elbows, pulling hair, shattering class, throwing her against the wall, and finally casting upon her the strike that would knock her unconscious to the floor. He didn't quit there, though. He kicked and slapped and sobbed and broke things - such as her bones - until her very heart stopped.

During this time, it was by some grace of God that Lillie had noticed her friends sudden absence from the prom and her and Andy took off for the trailer park just in time to throw open the door and stumble upon Daniel, wigging out on cocaine with bloody knuckles and Marsha lying in a heap on the floor, her prom dress ripped and covered in her own blood.

She was fading in and out of consciousness, but the intense pain would knock her out again in seconds. The night was blurry for her, but she remembered the beginning, she remembered the dance, the truck ride, the first few punches, and now she remembered the stickiness of her own blood pooling around her, the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears, Andy's frantic voice on the phone with an emergency operator, Lillie's screams, the sound of sirens, a fuzziness around her body, taking away all her pain, flashing lights, shouting, crying.

And then she remembered waking up for good. In a cold, scratchy hospital bed, hooked up to beeping machines. After tearing the junk out of her arm and shedding a few tears, she'd learned that she'd died. They managed to revive her, obviously, but the intense pain that she was now feeling all over her body could be credited half to the beating that she'd took and half to the shock of the defibrillator.

Suddenly, she was screaming. Shouting, demanding to know where her boyfriend was. That was when they upped her dosage of whatever it was that was coursing through her veins and the next time she woke up again, she was seated face to face with the psychologist that was about to drag her out of the hole that she'd dug herself into.

Daniel was doing time, for now. But, Marsha knew that his father had a good lawyer, he'd be out within months. It took her a few weeks, and many obstacles stood in her way, but eventually she started to get better.

The first night was rough, but the first day was worse. Because, while merely a few rooms down sat a wounded twenty-year old man by the name of Jack Shepherd who had just lost his entire tea, Marsha was going through her first relapse. She didn't want to be in the hospital, she wanted to be with Daniel. She snuck off into the bathroom and - don't ask her where she'd found the rusty scissors - cut off all her long hair until it rested just above her shoulders. In the meantime, her wrists managed to get in the way of the blades and minutes later, she lay bleeding out on the cold bathroom floor.

After that, she was moved permanently to the psych wards and she was handcuffed to her own hospital bed.

It took many tiresome days, long sessions and even longer nights spent alone and afraid, but Marsha eventually began to realize just how brainwashed she'd been. Her psychologist really did shake some sense into her, and she wondered how she could have been so blind for so long. She was luckier than lucky to be alive.

Thanks to her tedious recovery, a bit of summer school, a quick graduation, and a hasty acceptance letter to Stanford University itself, Marsha managed to get her life back on track. She spent five years at university, majored in psychology, minored in chemistry, she'd finally let herself explore romantic relationships - that all turned out disastrous, but not  _deadly_ \- and she took a job at Bakersfield High School as a student councillor. Inspired by her own tragic story and unwilling manipulation, she was determined to help the kids who might need it and not even know it.

And she did, until she popped up on the Government's radar and suddenly, she was shipped off to the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. where she continued her psychiatric work while under the employment of the American Military. In nineteen ninety-six, when she was twenty-seven years old, she was relocated to Area 52 after expressing interest in metahuman physiology and the rest is history.

She'd become a valuable asset to the government, and they were excited to have her furthering her studies at their secret military base. The most trying part of all of it for her was the fact that she suddenly found herself back  _home._ Area 52 was merely an hour and a half from China Lake, the place where she'd become an orphan, the place that her siblings had abandoned, the place where she'd lost herself, where she'd lived in a dusty trailer park, where she'd gotten involved with the Devil himself, where she was beaten to death.

Of course, she  _lived_ at Area 52 thanks to its housing system, but she was still required to have a residence elsewhere should the facility ever need to be vacated or should she ever take a well-deserved vacation day. She could have chosen anywhere nearby, really. She  _should_ have chosen Ridgecrest, as it was a city that she'd visited nearly every weekend in her youth as it had far more to do for kids like her than her own small town of China Lake. But, instead, she chose to buy an apartment suite dead centre of China Lake, minutes away from both the trailer park and the gated community that she used to live in.

She wasn't one of those people who bottled up her past. Sure, she didn't talk about it to anybody, but she dealt with it in a healthy manner. She needed to remember what happened to her, she couldn't forget just how brainwashed she'd let herself become, because she never wanted to let it happen again. Living back home in that secluded town served as the reminder that she needed.

As for Jack Shepherd, we all know that he was just the opposite. He'd endured a tragedy unlike any other, but instead of keeping in touch with Area 52 - the site of the incident - and working towards preventing it from ever happening again, he ran back home to Ridgecrest and stayed there. Trying to forget that it ever happened and yet dwelling on it day in and day out.

Marsha Holloway and Jack Shepherd were two fundamentally different people with more similarities than either of them could ever imagine.

He was brought into the world destined to not only be a part of a team, but to lead it. To save the world. And he lived as commonly as he could under the circumstances with an advocating mother, an unavailable father, a tightly-wound sister, and a quiet aptitude of a brother. He was outspoken, heard-headed, and sharp as a tack, blessed with the ability to get on people's nerves without even trying and later in life, serving as an object to swoon over. He channelled his uncertainties, his insecurities, and his weaknesses into his physicality and rounded them into undeniable strengths. He was born to be a hero.

She was born into a family that she never fit into and a world that didn't want her. She possessed powers that she was forced to suppress and hide, for those powers would make her an outcast to society even more than she already was. She was taught to be ashamed of herself and therefore she was easily coerced into bad relationships. She was born to be a wallflower.

Easily forgotten but beautiful enough to stop a spacecraft in its path. She was quietly biding her time, but perfectly content should she never be anything more than a face among a million faces.

Whereas a wink of his blue eye could excite even the most bashful of flowers. And if he wasn't the very centre of attention, a change needed to be made. And after the incident, he changed on a fundamental level, but he was still the same reckless man as he had been in his teenage years. He still drove a fast car and surrounded himself with even faster women. He didn't  _just_ spend time with the wrong people, he  _was_ those wrong people. But, he became cold and bitter, his humour came from a dark place deep within, and his ambitions and desires were reckless at best.

On the other hand,  _she_ was constantly growing. The same person, but acquiring new knowledge and changing her outlooks. She was what other psychologists would consider the  _miracle_ case. While Jack drowned in his own loss, she used her tragedy as different reasons to grow. All the while, they both had one unchangeable thing in common - the powers that they possessed. But, while his abilities made him a hero, hers made her an outcast. And therein lies the difference.

With broken dreams and shattered trust, Jack reentered the world as a new man. Tragedy had built  wall, his heroic qualities were locked away somewhere utterly inaccessible, but the darkness was there at the forefront. People don't really change, he was  _still_ Jack Shepherd, but he was simply modified to fit the circumstances. The anger that drove him through his life stemmed from various places but shaped every second of every day that he lived. Angry at the government, angry at his brother, angry at his father, angry at himself, bitter with the entire world for providing him with such an unfortunate path. He closed himself off. People only saw what he wanted them to see, he only said what he wanted to be heard, and every piece of his being was guarded immaculately.

Meanwhile, she left herself open. She learned from her mistakes, but rarely acted upon them. She continued to believe that good people surrounded her, that they would not take advantage or use her to their own desires, she trusted those that she most definitely should not have. She fell back into her pre-adolescent beliefs and cherished the notions of fate an destiny as she dreamed of happiness and romance and her fairytale ending.

He scoffed at people like her, couldn't stand them, really. Luckily, it was exactly those people who tended to avoid him. But, precisely those people that he  _needed._ He didn't believe in fate, he believed in chance. He didn't think that it was his  _destiny_ to be where he was, he thought that it was a case of bad luck that could have been avoided had he simply  _tried_ harder to fight the consequences. He knew that he was broken, but he didn't want fixing. He didn't want to be presented with false hope, he didn't want to see a disaster masquerading as the light at the end of the tunnel, he had accepted his fate as a tainted man who wouldn't be granted with happiness.

Throughout her life, Marsha Holloway's heart had been broken dozens of times. But, she picked her heart up off the floor, dusted it off, and handed it off to the next person to have their way with it. And  _that_ was her downfall, her constant openness to everyone and anyone in hopes that  _maybe,_ just maybe, she'd find the  _one._ Some thought her naive, others knew her to be strong enough to know the worst and still hope for the best. High hopes was her middle name.

Jack believed that he'd done a crime and was now doing the time. He had helped destroy his team, and now they were dead. Not only did he not deserve the happiness in life that others craved, but he didn't  _want_ it. He didn't want to  _feel,_ because that gave him a weakness that could be taken away from him and he'd have to start the cycle of mourning all over again. Precisely why, at the first sign of something  _real,_ he took off running - one thing that he had always been good at. He could deflect and drive people away and shut them out better than anyone ever before, and he was perfectly content in living that way.

But, Marsha's tragedies did not end with her momentary death and subsequent resuscitation. Throughout the years, she'd been through things that no person should live through. By all means, she should have been dead five times over. She'd been caught in a world-famous disaster, she'd been shot in a supposed place of innocence, she was driven to madness before being stabbed by a serial stalker straight out of a Wes Craven movie, but those stories will be elaborated on later.

For now, all that you need to know is that she knew how to deal with her emotions and move on with her unwavering optimistic life. But, as wide and as genuine as her smile remained, she was still alone. Surrounded by hundreds of people every day who were just as important as she was, she was chronically lonely. She had been broken all those years ago and she thought that she'd managed to glue herself back together, but that glue never successfully held. Unbeknownst to her, she could only do so much on her own - she needed someone to save her from the life that she thought she was satisfied with. She needed a hero, and since the odds all seemed to be against her, she would have to find that hero all on her own.

While Jack's mentality had been morphed through trauma, he was still the same man that he'd always been. He was still a hero. He just needed a good enough reason to access that heart of a lion which still resided within him - though it was now protected by a heavy wall that could only be brought down by the right person under the right circumstances. Somewhere deep down, he might have known that his closed off facade could be broken by someone, which is why he did everything in his power to avoid  _finding_ that person. Of course, he never considered the fact that  _she_ might find  _him._

While the story of Jack Shepherd and Marsha Holloway  _could_ have begun all those years ago back in the golden years of the mid-eighties, they weren't meant to meet for another twenty-one years. When tragedy was in the past, when she had recovered and he had repressed, when she smiled and he brooded. They were the same people as they'd always been, but they had been shaped by their own unfortunate circumstances. And though the differences between them were plentiful and dangerously apparent, the rare similarities would be enough to tempt each other. 

And when that present came, they were both two people that had been through things of equal detriment. But, he remained blind to the fact that she was anything more than a pretty face hidden behind thick frames and an oversized lab coat. Marsha came to him in the form of a green dress, but that wasn't even  _her._ She was not the alluring figure from across the street, she was the clumsy woman who had slipped on oil in his garage. She was not purely his bait, she was luring him to  _safety._ But, safety was something that he feared - he knew all too well what it was like to take comfortability for granted, and he had promised himself long ago never to do so again.

He saw the naivety of her expectations since day one, and he knew that she would only get hurt one day - likely by him - unaware that she'd already been hurt beyond true repair. With a wide-eyed stare and a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips, she continuously waited for him to do the right thing and be the hero that she'd read that he was. She expected that he would never break a promise, but the truth was that he never  _made_ promises.

He considered himself to smart to ever be hurt again, and he thought that he could have everyone figured out with a snap of his fingers. He sure as hell thought that he had her pegged within moments, but apparently he wasn't as good at judging first impressions as he thought. Instead, she continuously surprised him. On the contrary, she really did have his own character completely and accurately understood before she'd even  _met_ him. Unfortunately for Jack, he had overestimated his repressive abilities and underestimated her entirely.

Marsha read romance novels and Jack wasn't even sure if he believed in the prospect of love. Marriage? Sure. Physical attraction? Of course. The mutual need for companionship? It was only natural. But love? True, passionate, romantic, intense love founded by utter necessity of a specific person? It all seemed rather unlikely in his narrow mind. Romeo and Juliet were two fictional people completely fabricated by someone else's thoughts - of course their deranged love for one another would be desired by everyone to come.

But, they weren't even real.

And Jack wasn't angry for being attracted to her, he was only human, after all. If it weren't for the image of that green dress and the way that her eyes would sparkle no matter what she was feeling, he would have been over her in an instant. What concerned him was when his physical attraction persisted and unwillingly morphed into the beginning stages of something much more than that.

She was different.

She might have thought that she loved him since before she'd even met him thanks to those damn comic books. She knew that if he truly was all they said he was that she would have a hard time keeping her romantic notions away from him, even if a hero like himself would never look twice at someone like her. But, she had high expectations. She'd been watching movies and reading books her entire life - she was waiting for her grand romantic love affair. She was waiting for her prince charming, for her knight in shining armour, for her happily ever after. And she wondered why she was thirty-seven years old and still hadn't found it.

Instead, what she got was a sarcastic man who at one point had been a world-renowned hero. Someone who had been made bitter and untrusting due to tragedy, someone who had no desire to put himself on the line as a hero should. She was presented with a broken shell of a conqueror who no longer believed that he could be the valiant warrior that he once was. She got someone who would need her just as much as she would need him - and she certainly hadn't been expecting that.

She was not swept off her feet, as her romance novels had suggested that she would be, it was not love at first sight, she didn't feel as if she had come face to face with her destiny. Not at all. She came to realize almost instantly that who Captain Zoom was in the books and who Jack Shepherd was in reality were two - admittedly alike - but very much different people. She was only ever told of his best qualities, all the things that made him a hero. Everyone had failed to mention the list of things that wouldn't be considered completely becoming for a young man who was held so high on society's pedestal.

It was a composition of both sides of the story that made the true man. And the intrepid qualities weren't currently at the forefront, making things ever the more interesting. Even so, Marsha's expectations never faltered, and she never once lost hope in him. Even while they were screaming at each other and even after she had decided that he was the most infuriating man she'd ever met and even after presumptions were defied time and time again. It was  _her_ who stayed true. And, in the end, it was proven that he wasn't the only hero in their story.

She was prepared to love the flawless hero, until she discovered that he did not exist. His alter ego, however, was someone that she couldn't stand though she wanted nothing more than to help. It took mere days for her to realize that, despite the aggravation and despite the fact that it was nothing like she'd predicted let alone wanted, she was in love. In love with the man who was  _not_ her type. In love with the man that she never saw coming.

He fell in a different way. Marsha had always been an object of amusement to him. In the beginning, he found himself unable to be around her without exhausting himself in an argument, and yet he still continued to seek her out. He convinced himself that the reason behind this was because it was entertaining to watch someone so small attempt to take on someone so powerful and not that he was secretly ready to allow her to break through the walls that had been so carefully constructed around himself.

No matter how hard he fought against her notions, she eventually broke him. He assumed that he would be  _her_ demise thanks to his bitter ways, but he'd been shocked to realize that it was the other way around. Although his demise was truly an empowerment - a road to becoming the man that he truly was and a shove in the direction of heroism - it went against everything that he'd ever worked towards for the past twenty-one years. Who would have thought that she would be the key to it all? Certainly not him. She took him by surprise, but it was a pleasant surprise - regardless of what he tried to say about it.

Of course, it didn't happen immediately. He was distrustful of her from the start, to say the least. Definitely not fond of her affiliations and her broad range of faithful promises to various foundations. this fear mainly came from the fact that he couldn't seem to figure her out. Just when he thought he could predict her actions or words or emotions, she caught him off guard yet again. He realized that she was many people, she wasn't who everyone thought she was and yet that was  _precisely_ who she was. Needless to say, she was unlike anyone he'd ever met before. This was mostly due to the fact that he'd only ever allowed himself to encounter certain people and someone like  _her_ surely would have been kept at a safe distance.

She got under his skin without him even realizing it, and he suddenly developed a newfound fear - the fear of letting her down. This infuriated him like nothing else before he had decided right from the start that he would likely spend all his time back at Area 52 defying her high expectations. But, this was before he realized that being the cause of a smile on her face in lieu of a frown was far more rewarding. He was in too deep, and he didn't even know it yet.

All his life, Jack Shepherd had prepared for this. For the time that he would have to put his apathy to the ultimate test. That whole time, he'd been fighting to avoid developing the need to protect the four children, he'd forgotten to even  _worry_ about her. She was the first person to get through to him and by that point, he was too far gone to distance himself successfully. Before he knew it, he would do anything to ensure her safety. The one thing that he had been terrified and worked towards avoiding for the past two decades of his life. He'd failed.

He had been expecting a large battle. He never thought that all it would take were two wide blue eyes and a knowing smile. It was all too easy, ridiculous almost. Unlike her, it took him a while to realize that he had loved her all along. And it had to be real - he knew that because she was someone that before, he would have no interest in. She needed a hero, but it was her who saved him first.

After he had been turned around, he then realized her vulnerability. That was when he stepped up as the newly refurnished hero that she'd always needed, but only because she allowed hi to do so. But, Jack Shepherd didn't think that he'd ever be ready to admit that he had something solid to lose. Precisely why they tangoed in limbo for so long.

She saw him as a mystery that she had the pleasure of solving. He saw her as something dangerous that he should have kept away from. And in the end, they both found everything that they'd ever needed in something that they never realized they wanted. A hero and a victim. A tornado and a rainbow. Two things that, in theory, should not go together. But, they provide necessary balance in the very world.

The angel in her met the devil in him and all hell broke loose while the heavens would never be the same again.

This is their story.

 

> _"Used to doing bad, now we feel like we just now getting it. Don't have any other way so we started and finished it. No pain, no gain. Never stand down, made our own way. Never going slow, we pick up the pace. This is what we wanted from a young age - no emotion, that's what business is. Lord have mercy on the witnesses."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Sucker for Pain" by Wiz Khalifa, Imagine Dragons, and Lil Wayne.


	2. Where It All Begins

 

 

> _"You spend every last tomorrow looking back on yesterday. I've been where you are so many times before, these are the moments when you find what you've been living for. This is where you fall, this is where you get up, this is where it all begins."_
> 
>  

On a dry, sunny day in the Death Valley desert, our story begins.

 

Jack Shepherd, forty years old and supposedly bitter beyond repair, had been working rather leisurely at Slow Jack's Auto Shop for hours and at around one o'clock in the afternoon, he'd decided to take a break. He didn't have many staff members scheduled on today, it hadn't been necessary, so the shop wasn't bustling by no means. People were tinkering with cars here and there around the garages, the cashier was flipping through a magazine behind the till at the shop in between customers, and Jack himself had been in the middle of fixing a fuel tank as well as attempting to manage his subordinates.

Quite frankly, it was a day like any other.

Jack himself didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary. Though there was a time that he was famously known for being the most powerful superhero in the world, he was no reduced to being infamously known as the facetious philandering playboy living a lonely world in the Californian desert. Sure, he had friends, plenty of them from back in the day and those that he'd hired as his staff, but he'd been emotionally closed off for decades now, that didn't allow him to form many tight bonds.

He was tall and muscular thanks to the fact that he'd been channelling every ounce of his lingering rage into physical fitness and he had a certain smirk and charm to his blue eyes that could cast an unbreakable spell on even the most tightly wound of women. He was a smooth talker, he knew precisely what to say in order to get what he wanted, and he was damaged beyond repair. Every woman's weakness.

But, as he stood brooding and powerless in the break room of the shop and gazed nonchalantly out the window, he had no way of knowing that he was about the lay eyes on the woman that would change his life in near impossible ways.

He had to do a double take. At first, he'd only seen a green dress, but when he realized that there must have been someone  _wearing_ the dress, he turned his attention back out the window and his very world came to a halt. She was standing across the street a ways away, and yes, while it was the intriguing way that she was wearing the green dress that hooked his attention initially, he soon came to appreciate the cascading brown hair that fell around her shoulders and the way that she carried herself as she took a step across the street.

Unknowing just  _what_ it was about this mystery woman that seemed to compelling to him, Jack suddenly found himself wiping his hands on a nearby rag and moving to lean in the doorway of the shop. She appeared to be heading in his direction, so he figured that if she was coming with the intentions of entering the shop, he may as well greet her. It was only the gentlemanly thing to do, especially if he wanted her to be the next woman to fall victim to his womanizing ways.

It was as he appreciated the bounce in her steps as she walked that he realized she was also about to die.

The car that suddenly was coming straight at her was meant for speed, he could tell simply by the sound of the engine alone. That being said, how on earth did that woman not hear the engine? It was loud enough to wake the dead and mere yards away from her. Either she was deaf or simply extremely stupid. Whatever the case may be, Jack suddenly developed a dreaded feeling inside of him once he begun to realize that the whole situation  _screamed_ foul play.

The car didn't hit her - at least to Jack's knowledge - but it must have scared her well enough because she was now lying on the pavement and her sunglasses had fallen off her face. As Jack lowered his eyebrows and went to help her up off the ground, his mind began to race. He got the feeling that she was  _vital,_ in what way, he didn't know. If this was some kind of ruse, she certainly wasn't playing her part as expertly as she could have.

She'd fallen with a hand to her forehead and she was now sitting up in the street, looking rather confused, as if she wasn't sure what to do or say next, especially as Jack approached her. His suspicions were put on hold momentarily as he bent down to help her up, "You okay?" He asked concernedly, pulling her up off the ground and moving them both out of the street before anything else could come around the corner and strike them both down.

"Yeah." She responded vaguely as Jack lead her to the safety of the garage in hopes of assessing any possible injuries. The fact that she was walking perfectly fine - even in those terrifyingly high heels of hers - suggested that she was unharmed. But, her unfazed state of being lasted mere seconds.

"You sure you're alright?" He asked again, noticing her uneasy silence on the matter and wanting to make sure that he didn't need to break out the first aid kit or call an ambulance.

If she responded, Jack didn't hear it. His mind was still racing as he tried to understand just what might be happening. And he couldn't do that very well while he was constantly being distracted by the sweetly intoxicating smell of her perfume. As he lowered his eyes to the floor of his garage, he noticed a small puddle of oil and realized that she likely wouldn't have seen it in time to doge it.

"Watch out for the -" his warning had been cut unfortunately short when the mysterious brunette woman slipped on the grease and yet again found herself falling to the ground, " _grease."_ Jack finished pointlessly, sighing momentarily before bending down to pick her up off the ground for the  _second_ time in a matter of minutes.

It was then, as she sat helplessly on the floor of his garage and he bent down beside her, that their eyes met for the first time and  _something_ began to linger between them. From that moment on, their story becomes complicated and messy and beautiful, but that initial lock of eyes was the official commencement. What confused him, was that she stared at him so expectantly and rather starstruck that it appeared as though she  _knew_ him. Like she'd been waiting for this moment a very long time. What Jack couldn't have known, was that she  _was._

Though she stared at him with wide eyes and an awestruck look on her face, he allowed himself to truly take in this strange woman before him. Up close and personal, he realized that he'd been correct in assuming even from afar that she was attractive -  _beyond_ attractive, really. She had these electric blue eyes that seemed to hold the very world in them that captivated him unlike anything before. They held secrets and yet they depicted everything.

Her skin was fair and delicately freckled, her nose was sloped perfectly proportionately to her face, her cheekbones were chiselled, her hair was long and curled and smelled of fruity shampoo, and her lips were thin but painted the colour of a rose. Then and there, Jack Shepherd realized that she was very likely the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that she was part of something far bigger than he could possibly know.

It was when the vehicle that had previously nearly killed her pulled into the garage of his shop and cut the engine that Jack knew. Something very fishy was going on, and he was about to get dragged into something that he had absolutely no intention nor desire to be a part of in any way shape or form.

"Come on, get up." He said to her, rather impatiently as he now realized that she likely had something to do with whatever was to come, and pulled her to her feet once more. He wasn't sure  _what_ he was expecting, but he realized that he shouldn't have been surprised at all to see Dr. Ed Grant step out from the passenger seat of the vehicle. Whatever was going on certainly had  _Area 52_ written all over it.

Jack's fists began to clench reflexively as he braced himself for whatever the hell he was about to be hit with. " _Grant?"_ He questioned in a demanding tone as two more men appearing to be secret service or bodyguards or something along those lines emerged from the same vehicle.

"Zoom!" Grant responded enthusiastically, as if two whole decades hadn't passed bitterly between the two of them.

Jack lowered his eyebrows and rolled up his sleeves, suddenly on the full defence as he responding warily, "It's  _Jack."_ He hadn't been referred to as  _Captain Zoom_ or anything of the sorts in twenty years, and he'd disowned the title long ago. He couldn't bring himself to stare the tall, aged man in the face. He symbolized everything that Jack had forced himself to repress for decades, and he wasn't willing to let all that rise to the surface.

When he was twenty years old, he'd faced an unmeasurable tragedy.

Jack Shepherd used to possess the power of superhuman speed, and that power was put to good use at Area 52 back in the day - a government institution hidden away in the base of a mountain in that very desert that specialized in studying meta-human physiology and all it's wonders. Jack's brother, Connor - who also had powers beyond any physical explanation - had accompanied him to the facility and together, they formed a team of young adults all trying to cope with their powers and save the world while doing so. And for a few years, all was well.

Jack had jumped quickly and without consideration into a relationship with Alex - better known to the world as  _Ace_ \- and the two of them had attempted to navigate the waters of young love though they really didn't even  _like_ each other that much, and Jack had formed a pleasant friendship with the other members Finn and Rebecca - a.k.a. Marksman and Daravia - thus leading to a rather happy adolescence for the lot of them.

It was when Area 52 decided that their current powers were not enough that a problem was caused. Yes, the young heroes were out saving the world day after day, but they'd also been reduced to the likes of characters in a comic book series and suddenly, their lives and powers were being profited from. And in the world of profit - bigger is better. So, when countless hours spend in the labs of the facility had produced the discovery of Gamma-13 rays, the government was quick to suggest that they blast the team with it's radiation so as to increase their already powerful abilities.

At first, everything seemed to turn out alright. Their powers grew bigger and better, just as the military had hoped, but after mere days, it became clear that it had also damaged one of them on a molecular level. It was when Connor Shepherd's blue eyes had turned into a bright red colour that they knew that there was no going back. Connor's very being had been reversed and it was now as if his entire DNA told him that his only duty on earth was to execute the Zenith Team.

It had been a battle unlike any before in history, and both parties fought as hard as they possibly could, but tragedy was the only thing that the world had been left with.

The three others had been killed in the battle between the team and Concussion, while Jack had merely been left with recoverable injuries. And as for Connor himself, he'd been banished by his own brother into an inter-dimensional rift that Jack had been told had killed the boy.

Jack was left with a survivor's guilt unlike any other, but he was a complicated man. He emerged from Ridgecrest Regional Hospital on the twenty-fourth of June, nineteen eighty-six after spending a night in the emergency room and that was that. His powers had been drained from him during the battle, his team was dead, there was no reason for Jack to return to Area 52, so he remained in Ridgecrest, where he'd grown up, to live out the rest of his days.

And those days were filled with anger. He'd tried every trick in the book to diminish that rage that he felt and the guilt that he carried, but he never managed to grab hold of a single vice that truly filled the void. He took up smoking and quit within a year, he'd taken up drinking but even that didn't stick, he used woman for whatever he pleased but still managed to feel empty at the end of the day. Nothing seemed to cut it.

Now, decades later, that guilt still weighed him down as if the weight of the very world was being carried on his broad shoulders. The only vice he'd settled on was playing the blame game. No matter what the issue, Jack Shepherd  _always_ needed to force the blame and responsibility onto someone that  _wasn't_ him. Of course, the only person that he truly blamed for the death of his team was  _himself,_ but he was currently hiding that by accusing Area 52 and all it's associates to be the root source of all evil in this world.

"What are you _doing_ here?" It was not a question, it was a demand.

A circle had been formed now to discuss the matter at hand, and Jack suddenly found himself outnumbered in his own shop. "We're starting up a new team!" Dr. Grant's strangely chipper attitude did nothing to reassure Jack, though he noticed that the man clearly had not changed over the years.

For the sake of everyone involved as well as the fate of the world, Jack sincerely hoped that Dr. Grant was kidding about his previous statement. "What, men's slow-pitch softball?" Jack was a man known for many things, his good looks, his devilish ways, his tragic past, and his sarcastic sense of humour. He could make just about anybody laugh, even if it was done so in an immensely facetious way.

To his utter horror, Jack realized that Grant had in fact  _not_ been joking as he began to explain the logistics of the situation. At that point, Jack let his senses fade in and out as he had absolutely no desire to hear anything about what Area 52 was planning for the world. It was when the brunette woman spoke up from across the circle that Jack shook his head and regained his sense of hearing.

"Why is the  _green dress_ talking?" Classy as always, Jack glared at her in perplexity as a slightly self-righteous look overtook his face.

Though up until this moment, the woman had seemed rather in awe of Jack - which he now understood likely was because she knew  _precisely_ who he was thanks to her involvement in the situation and probably saw him as some fabled hero - she now narrowed her eyes with a frown and inhaled sharply. Judging by her apparent liaison to the facility as well as her negative reaction to Jack's rudeness, he sensed that this would be the beginning of a  _beautiful_ friendship.

On the contrary, he had a feeling that this gorgeous woman might just be the death of him. Because, this was the last thing that he'd imagined being hit with when he'd seen her through that dirty window. "I'm a psychologist." She stated, though her sentence had trailed off slightly. Jack could tell that whatever confidence she might have was currently dwindling thanks to the precariousness of the situation.

"Oh," Grant interjected rather uncomfortably, as if the air between them all had suddenly changed, "this is Marsha Holloway, she works for Area 52."

Jack looked away from the woman, who was now nothing but  _tainted_ in his mind, He began to listen to the rest of Grant's pathetic pitch. If it was all true, they were really assembling a brand new Zenith Team, even after the original had gone down in flames. Quite frankly, it made sense. If there was one thing that Jack knew for sure about the American government, it was that they never learned from their mistakes so long as possible profit was a factor.

Immediately and without hesitation, Jack was certain that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with this new undoubtedly ill-fated team. He was out of the game - for good. He couldn't in his right mind believe that anything had changed at Area 52, that technology had improved as well as decision making abilities, certainly not with  _these_ two running the show.

Based on what he'd seen, this entire endeavour was a train wreck right from the very beginning. They'd set up some theatrical ruse to capture Jack's attention and catch him off guard, and no one was doing a decent job of pitching this idea to him, it was a disaster. Sure, Dr. Grant was scientifically intelligent and excellent at what he does, but Jack didn't trust his judgement for a minute. And this  _Marsha Holloway_ woman couldn't seem to stand on her own two feet properly, there was no way that he could trust her. Besides, the way she wore that green dress and her overall good looks promised that she was nothing but ditsy at best.

Jack understood why they thought that they needed him to help get this new team up and running - he was technically the only superhero left, though he didn't actually possess the abilities that would suggest that. He knew the ins and outs of a team, he could train the newcomers properly in all aspects, and he could be of use at the facility once more. That would become his life yet again, but he'd promised  _years_ ago never to let that happen.

He also understood that there really was no risk factor involved for the facility when it came to him. He had all the experience and therefore would be useful to them, but he lacked the power to act out should he desire to. He was the perfect fit. He could help lead the government to military success but was not powerful enough to do any damage when he inevitably disagreed with the way that things were done around Area 52.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he would forevermore remain bitter and resentful towards Area 52 and everyone who willingly associated with the place, a new team wouldn't do anything to change that, it would only give him something more to lose. And currently, Jack Shepherd had  _nothing_ to lose. He made damn sure of that after he'd lost everything. He had his mother and his sister and family members here and there, he had friends that he cared about, but he'd distanced himself from even them so as to ensure the safety of his own emotions.

For twenty years, Jack held no one near nor dear to him and it showed as he was now living his bitter life as a cold, empty shell of a man. And he wouldn't have it any other way. He knew full well that the minute he began to really  _feel_ someone for something was the minute that he had a weakness, and the life tended to take advantage of a man's weaknesses. Little did Jack know that he'd just met his first weakness in twenty years in the form of two bright blue eyes staring at him from across the circle.

It all started to go to hell when Dr. Grant pulled out that damn gun.

Jack was obviously under the impression that he had a  _choice_ in the matter, to which he should have known better, really. It was merely a tranquilizing dart, the effect would be harmless, but render Jack unconscious long enough for a decision to be made without him. But, Miss Holloway had other ideas. She was a psychologist - the  _head_ psychologist at Area 52, actually - and she knew that if she could simply get through to Jack, he'd come back willingly.

Jack looked around himself in rather mock confusion as he raised his hands sarcastically and tried to talk his way out of the situation. It became clear that not  _everyone_ in their little circle had been informed about this particular aspect of the plan when Miss Holloway seemed just as shocked to see that gun as Jack himself was. "You can't  _shoot_ him!" She exclaimed in disbelief hurriedly before attempting to push the gun away from Dr. Grant and  _that_ was when the real damage had been done.

In doing so, the trigger had been pulled, and the dart managed to rebound off the ceiling before lodging itself directly into Jack's shoulder. The last thing that Jack remembered seeing before losing consciousness was the rather fuzzy image of Dr. Grant's open-mouth gasp and Marsha's wide-eyed shock.

" _Sorry."_ He'd heard her say in vain, but her words merely bounced around inside Jack's now empty head as the world faded into blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Where It All Begins" by Hunter Hayes and Lady Antebellum.


	3. The A Team

" _They say she's in the class A team, stuck in her daydream, been this way since eighteen. But lately, her face seems slowly sinking, wasting, crumbling like pastries. And they scream, 'the worst things in life come free to us.'"_

 

Jack wished that it hadn't been a tranquilizer dart.

 

He wished that it had been a lethal bullet, for he'd take death any day over being forced back into the hidden military installation responsible for the death of his livelihood. Instead, he had not been taken by the sweet release of death, he was back, and it was time to face the music. Jack had pried his eyes open and blinked away his subdued anger for the time being.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but everything looked the exact same. That was what unsettled him the most. Because, he didn't know how to feel about the place. On one hand, it had been good to him, it made him into the hero that he once was. This was where he met his team, where him and his brother could finally be themselves, where he learned to cultivate his powers. He practically lived here in his youth, he liked it here.

 

But, of course, the walls of this facility could now only produce a burning anger within him. Because, it was the people in charge here who put their own greed and curiosity before the safety of Jack's team - his brother, his girlfriend, his best friends, himself. The fact that even the paint on the walls remained unchanged after twenty years threw him off. He may as well have never left, meaning that he couldn't be sure whether or not the mentality around the facility had really changed. Had they learned anything from the mistakes that could have been avoided in the past or were they willing to do it all over again?

 

The truth of the matter was that he already knew the answer to his question. He barely trusted anyone at all, let alone the people at Area 52. Jack had closed off his heart and emotions decades ago, but it was then and there - sitting back in the facility after twenty-one years away - that Jack made a promise to himself. He promised that no matter what they threw at him, regardless of what came his way, he wouldn't crack. He would remain as apathetic as humanly possible, he would't let them hurt him again the way that they'd done so irreversibly the first time.

 

Jack Shepherd promised never to love again. To never trust, to never get comfortable within his own happiness, to never indulge in clouded judgement that may result in seeing a fabricated light at the end of a very dark tunnel. He promised eternal pessimism and arrogant self-preservation for the rest of his days. Specifically those spent forcibly within the facility.

One of the most complicated things about Jack, was that he hated himself for letting his team perish around him, but the man had such an inflated ego that it was hard to tell. Ask anyone who knew him, they'd say that he was the most conceited, self-absorbed person they'd ever known. And yet, he couldn't stand himself.

 

Those two opposing characteristics were about to be put to the test.

 

*****

 

Jack was put through the motions.

 

Dr. Grant had over-excitedly attempted to explain what was about to happen as he guided the both of them through the eerily familiar halls of Area 52. As they walked, a few people in lab coats whispered and pointed with smiles and Jack remembered with dread that he was a hero. He was the God that these misguided people all worshipped. His presence at the base was likely all anyone was talking about, and they would all be eager to catch a glimpse of the fabled Captain Zoom returning to his roots.

 

Though Jack could feel the unchecked rage simmering deep inside of him, he also knew that he was currently perfectly powerless. He was dealing with the government, he was receiving compensation for the work that he would do here, but he didn't have a choice. He was here now, he didn't get a say in the matter. What he did get to decide, however, was how he acted. He would be damned before giving the employees of Area 52 the satisfaction of having him actually try to reach the success that they desired. He didn't give a shit. That was how it had to be.

 

Inside Jack's empty mind, Dr. Grant's endless words were interrupted by the echoing sound of a pair of high heeled shoes clacking quickly on the laminate floor. That was what shook Jack from his numb state as he stood up straighter and blinked at the newcomer. He didn't get a good look at her, for many reasons. One, he couldn't focus due to the rate at which she was talking about something - perhaps how excited she was that he was here - two, she was much shorter than him and kept moving her head as she spoke, three, any familiarity on her face was being successfully hidden by large glasses indicated a rather dramatic visual deficiency, and four because she'd tripped over her thin air and had fallen to the ground before Jack could even fully process what was happening.

 

Jack lowered his eyebrows and came to a stop due to the confusion. Perhaps she'd been so excited that her legs had failed her, perhaps she'd been struggling to keep up with them and she'd tripped over her own feet, perhaps she was just terminally clumsy, there was no way he could have known. But, he bent down to offer her an arm up and after he'd set the petite woman back on her feet and came face to face with her, he recognized her.

 

"Oh," he raised a rather teasing eyebrow as the woman stared at him with familiarly wide eyes, "it's you." He finished with a smirk, Marsha Holloway's features wouldn't soon be forgotten by him, and now here they were once more. He didn't know what to expect being back at Area 52, but perhaps he'd be seeing quite a bit of her, he wasn't sure how that made him feel.

 

As the trio continued almost leisurely down the hallway, Jack let his attention fade away into oblivion once more as he assumed Dr. Grant and Miss Holloway took turns fawning over him and his grand return to the deadly facility. Jack simply hoped that whatever he was here to do, it would be over soon. A sick feeling within him told him that training the team wasn't going to be his only job. He worried that he may never be able to truly sever his ties to Area 52 and the American military.

 

Shaking himself yet again from his trace, Jack came to the conclusion that if he wanted to stay one step of the game this time around, he'd need to be alert, he needed to listen with each one of his senses. He knew that the facility was famous for keeping their detrimental secrets, especially from someone with the potential to be powerful like him, but he didn't intend to let his emotions be played with. He would trust no one, he would keep his defences built high and indestructible around his feelings and his true potential, his bitterness was about to be put to the ultimate test. And he wasn't about to let anyone get through to him, least of all someone working for the government.

 

Jack straightened his shoulders after realizing that if this was going to be the case, the two people on either side of him had to be public enemy number one. An old man from his past and a small woman with a time-stopping smile. It couldn't be that hard to keep them at a safely icy distance, could it? Finally tuning into the conversation in time to witness Dr. Grant nodding along to Miss Holloway's unrealistic enthusiasm and high hopes for Jack and the new team, he rolled his eyes with a sigh. She may be beautiful, but he'd come to realize from that split second of character evaluation that he despised her.

 

Simply by hearing her talk and bearing witness to the dreamlike wonder within her blue eyes allow Jack to believe that he had her completely figured out. She was a hopeless case. A hopeless romantic, a hopeless dreamer, holding hopeless expectations, just hopeless. She seemed to be excited about just about everything, she certainly believed that Jack was here to save the day, she must have had a pretty naive view to stand where she stands and still hold such blind faith to everyone around her.

 

Jack nodded his head, he was sure that he'd gotten her pegged already. A sheltered girl who grew into a thoughtless, pure woman. She was untainted by the world around her, she knew nothing about darkness, she'd never experienced pain, she was clean. Of course, he couldn't have been more wrong, but these false judgement claims allowed Jack to hate her almost immediately.

 

It was also then and there that Jack realized that if the two of them were destined to work closely alongside each other throughout the course of this, he was going to break that innocence within her. She would likely try her very hardest to see the good in him and expect him to do the right thing and he was going to snuff out her light. He was almost excited about it. Breaking her and turning her into something dark and broken would give him something to do in this otherwise boring facility.

 

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets with a grimace as he was introduced to an applauding crowd. Every single person here was expecting him to rise to the occasion, to be the hero that they were promised. How wrong they were. He didn't belong here. Maybe he did at some point, but certainly not anymore.

 

Finally, they reached what would appear to be their destination, and Jack realized that the real work was about to begin already, they were wasting no time on this new and improved team. The trio stood in a glass viewing panel above the large hall of a room that Jack recognized as the one that he used to train in back when he was on the Zenith Team. Grant spoke into a pager, asking whomever was on the other end to bring out the candidates.

 

Now, Jack raised a dreading eyebrow. "You haven't even picked a team yet?" He groaned, and Marsha looked at him in surprise while Grant ignored the both of them and continued to speak into his pager.

Marsha seemed caught off guard by Jack's tone. She'd been expecting him to be excited about getting to hand pick the new Zenith Team himself, she certainly was. Instead, he seemed irritated.

 

"We've selected a multitude of suitable candidates." Marsha explained, that cheerful smile never quite fading from her face. "I'm sure the elimination process won't take more than an hour at most."

 

Jack was almost certain that she would be proven incorrect. If a decision had to be made between her, him, and Dr. Grant, it surely would take hours. At least, he would make damn sure of that. Jack rolled his eyes and looked away from her, feeling rather blinded by the unwavering light in her eyes. Never before had he ever encountered anyone with such blind optimism. He began to truly hope that at least some of it was feigned for if not, he feared that she might be clinically insane.

 

Finally, the so-called candidates entered the room below and Jack was reduced to confounding confusion once more. It was an endless line of children. Taking in the sight, Jack realized that the oldest couldn't have been more than eighteen years old while the youngest looked to be about five. It didn't make any sense. Glancing beside himself in hopes of seeing that same confusion registered on the faces of his fellow judges, Jack saw that Dr. Grant seemed preoccupied with the content of his clipboard while Miss Holloway was positively teeming with excitement.

 

All things combined sent Jack into an unapparent tailspin of skepticism. 

 

Dr. Grant finally noticed Jack's apprehension and offered him a less than reassuring explanation. "Our recent studies have shown that it may be better to train people with unnatural abilities from an adolescent age. If we can shape their powers before they're fully grown, they'll be stronger in the long run."

 

Grant's words trailed off slightly as he turned away from the group and began down the metal staircase, obviously ready to let the elimination process begin. Jack, blinked in consternation before coming to his senses and began to follow silently behind him. As an afterthought, he stepped to the side before entering the staircase, seemingly to let Marsha walk before him, but really he had ulterior motives. Putting an arm out, he stopped her before she could pass by him, hoping that she might have at least some sense left within her that he could break through to.

 

"You realize that you've got a bunch of kids down there?" Jack demanded coolly, his voice low and accusatory. He was apathetic when he believed that he'd be dealing with the fate of a team of adults, now that kids were in the picture, it might be a lot more difficult for him. How could he let himself be the monster that stands aside and lets a group of children be destroyed by the American government?

 

Picking up fully on Jack's cynicism, Miss Holloway stood up straight and gave him a simple smile - perhaps the most genuine one he'd seen from her that day - as she spoke. "Don't be so quick to write them off." She stated, her eyes searching his face for a glimpse of the hero that she'd read about in the comics as a young girl. "You might be surprised." She finished before moving past him and following Dr. Grant down the staircase and into the open area of the gymnasium.

 

For a second, Jack remained motionless following her positive words as he watched her step down the staircase. One third of him regarded her in disbelief of her optimism, one third appreciated the bounce of her hair as she stepped down the stairs, and the last third kept an eye on her shoes as he worried that she might trip and fall right down the heavy metal stairs.

 

Finally rolling his eyes and shoving his hands into his pocket with a sigh, he accepted his fate for the time being and joined the others on the ground.

 

*****

 

It had been an hour and the three members of their makeshift casting panel were all ready to tear their hair out.

 

They'd seen dozens of children auditioning and not a single one of them had displayed a power worthy of protecting the fate of the earth with. With every passing minute, Jack had grown more and more vocally pessimistic about the entire endeavour, evoking negative emotions from the other members of his trio.

 

Beside him, Marsha was losing her patience with every passing second as he discredited child after child before they even had enough time to show their talents. With every negative quip, every roll of his eyes, every jibe in her direction, she was growing more and more impatient. And finally, she began to counter his arguments. Captain Zoom may be her personal hero, but it had become incredibly clear to her that the man seated next to her was not Captain Zoom. It was Jack Shepherd, a bitter man with no regard for anything but himself. And she had no problem battling his negativity.

 

Having had enough of the pairs relentless quarrelling, Dr. Grant stood suddenly and announced that they were taking a break between candidates. He left the room hurriedly to take a breather and simply get away from his squabbling judges while Marsha stood with an aggravated sigh and made to do the same. "You know," she began sharply before she could leave, evoking an expectant look from Jack who leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, "for someone who claims not to care about any of this, you're impressively outspoken." She finished with narrowed eyes before spinning around and moving to the back of the room for a glass of water.

 

Jack sat in solitary for a solid couple seconds before catching a second wind and remembering that he'd never been one to stand down from an argument. He appeared rather casually beside Miss Holloway, leaning against the wall beside her as she stood next to the water dispenser, and though his stance was friendly, the look behind his eyes was vicious. Marsha took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever was to come, while Jack narrowed his eyes in slight displeasure.

 

"This is taking forever." He stated, and now Marsha turned to him, ready for a fight.

 

"Well, maybe if you actually put some thought into what -" She began, but Jack interrupted her rudely with a shake of his head.

 

"No, no just the opposite, actually. If you stopped tiptoeing around their feelings just because they're kids, then maybe we'll actually get somewhere once we can start ruling out the obvious!" His suggestion came across as more of a demand than anything, and Marsha didn't like his attitude one bit.

 

"You never know what they might bring to the table unless you give them a chance!" She argued in defence of the candidates.

 

"Yeah," Jack rolled his eyes, "and if you had it your way, we'd end up with a team consisting of a hundred kids just because you don't want to hurt their feelings." He finished with a mocking pout that she wanted to somehow wipe off his insufferable face.

 

Marsha took a step back and stared at him in utter disbelief, "Were you born with the utter inability to conform to the idea of being easy to work with?" She questioned breathlessly, still eyeing him incredulously.

Jack raised an almost appreciative eyebrow, so she could bite back when she wanted to. Interesting. He was about to counter her accusation and even leaned towards her to do so, but was interrupted when Dr. Grant appeared between the two of them suddenly, knowing that his presence would be necessary in order to break up whatever fight they'd just gotten themselves into.

 

"Come on," the older scientist nodded back towards their panel, "let's get this over with."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "The A Team" by Ed Sheeran


	4. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

> _" Welcome to your life, there's no turning back. Even while we sleep, we will find you acting on your best behaviour, turn your back on mother nature. Everybody wants to rule the world. It's my own desire, it's my own remorse, help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world."_

 

The process of carefully crafting the new and improved Zenith Team was a long and tedious one.

Finally, when a twelve year old boy named Tucker Williams stood before the judges, it appeared as though there might have been a light at the end of their dark tunnel after all. His file sounded more promising than anyone they'd auditioned so far, and this evoked three various emotions among the judging panel. Dr. Grant had no expectations at all, he was a clean slate waiting to either be impressed or disappointed, Miss Holloway had very  _high_ expectations for the young boy, and Jack had rather low expectations. He wasn't under any impression that he'd be impressed any time soon, for he'd doomed the entire Zenith project before it had begun.

The twelve year old boy appeared nervous, as if he himself had no faith in what he was about to display. Marsha picked up on this, and sent him an encouraging smile, determined to raise the boy's dwindling self esteem. Jack, on the other hand, was now impatient beyond compare and he rolled his eyes in aggravation, crossing his arms and speaking sidelong to the woman beside him. "Is he  _doing_ it or is her just naturally this chubby?"

Miss Holloway lowered her eyebrows in disapproval and turned to look at him, but before she could even begin to reprimand him for his sarcastic comment at the child's expense, Tucker's left foot suddenly expanded as if it were some kind of balloon, causing his very shoe to fly off. As if that weren't enough, he proceeded to do the same to his entire  _head,_ and it became nothing if not clear that his power was something that they could certainly work with.

Unwilling to admit that he was feeling satisfied upon seeing some real potential in a candidate, Jack couldn't help but glance in Marsha's direction. Upon doing so, he noticed her giving him a secret little grin that seemed to scream the words "I told you so." Jack had to fight off a smile of his own - he shouldn't have been  _happy._ For one, he hadn't been happy in decades, and secondly he was being proved  _wrong,_ that shouldn't have reassured him.

After Tucker, a young ginger-headed girl with a face full of freckles stepped forward. She couldn't have been any more than eleven years old, and all she presented as her supposed  _power,_ was a simply jump rope routine. Jack grimaced after twenty seconds and waved her away, chucking away her file and opening up the next one. " _Next."_ He demanded, and Marsha turned to look at him with an unreadable expression.

From beside them, Dr. Grant sighed and took a sip of water, bracing himself for the argument that was inevitably about to come. "Respectfully,  _Mr. Shepherd,"_ she began, though her sharp tone made it clear that the words to follow would be far from  _respectful,_ "you could let her finish."

Jack rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat, tired of her bleeding-heart ways already. "And what would be the point of that,  _Miss Holloway?"_ He shook his head and looked her in the eyes as he spoke to her, making it clear that he was mocking her insufferably.

Narrowing her eyes, Marsha fought back. "It's thirty seconds out of your day." She sounded exhausted - Jack had that effect on people.

"Thirty seconds I could be spending doing something actually  _progressive."_ Jack muttered, sitting up straighter to flip through the next file, hoping that they could move on.

But, Marsha continued to eye him meticulously. "Thirty seconds that you could spend not being  _rude."_

Jack turned back to her rather sharply, some  _choice_ words on the tip of his tongue, but their attention was both caught by the long-haired teenage boy who now stood nonchalantly before them.

"So, can I go now or do you guys want to finish your argument first?" He finished with a pop of his gum, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn't matter to him either way.

Jack raised his eyebrows, still on edge from Marsha's arguments, but he waved for the boy to continue. Beside him, Marsha now sat quietly and rather humbled, with a blush on her cheeks that told the room how embarrassed she was to be slowly but surely losing all professionalism when it game to Jack Shepherd.

Looking at the teenage boy - Dylan West was his name, and he was seventeen years old - it was apparent that he was the epitome of the teenage stereotype. Nonchalant, in need of a haircut, and chewing relentlessly on a piece of gum as he slouched carelessly before the panel with his hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy blue jeans. Due to these specific factors, Jack found himself immediately unimpressed and began to mock him without so much as missing a beat.

To his credit, Dylan remained altogether unfazed by Jack's sarcastic ridicule as e shrugged his shoulders once more before turning his entire body invisible and immediately guaranteeing himself a spot on the team.

After a few more unsuccessful candidates evoking relentless arguments between the trio of judges came Summer Jones, a tall girl of sixteen years old with pretty auburn hair and an eery look in her chocolate brown eyes. Though she was young, her words seemed to carry far more years than she could possibly have lived, it was clear that she was knowledgeable well beyond her age.

She seemed comfortable in her own element as she used nothing but the forces of her own mind to lift Jack's glass of water off their makeshift desk and have it defy the laws of physics as it travelled through the air and shattered against the nearby wall. Telekinesis - a power as old as time, but rarely displayed in such a controllable manner. Yet again, Jack was quick to degrade her abilities. She attempted to express that there was more to her powers than simple telekinesis, "I  _see_ things." She argued in an attempt to force him to take her seriously, but her feeble efforts were in vain.

"Do you see dead people?" Jack deadpanned mockingly, which he sensed prompted another roll of Marsha's blue eyes from beside him. He didn't need to look over at her to know that he was right, which he was. Miss Holloway sighed silently upon realizing that the sixteen year old girl before her was more mature than the adult man beside her.

"I see that you suffer from a  _massive_ inferiority complex." She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm similar to Jack's own words. He was almost impressed, and Marsha stifled a laugh from beside him. With that, Summer left the centre of the room to take a seat with the rest of the candidates, leaving Jack to glance helplessly around himself. Now pissed that he was lacking a water glass, he reached over and pulled Marsha's into his reach, like a child taking whatever he wanted even if it wasn't his.

Marsha simply sent a sharp look towards the glass that he now held in his hands, using his thumb to wipe away the pink lipstick mark that had been left around before picking up the glass and finishing off the last few sips of water. Knowing he was being an asshole, he glanced over at Marsha with a look of mock innocence on his insufferable face. "Oh, sorry." He teased, hoping that she was planning on lightening up sometime soon, "Did you want that?"

After yet another interesting interlude between the bickering pair, one of the youngest contestants came forward. Cindy Collins, an undeniably adorable six year old girl with blonde ponytails, seemingly confused by the task at hand, began to sing the alphabet as opposed to display whatever power that she supposedly possessed. Jack immediately raised his eyebrows in confusion and looked to his right for some kind of confirmation that the child's song was  _not_ in fact her power, but Miss Holloway seemed only entranced by the child's innocence and it became clear to Jack that his counterpart would not be bringing an end to the little girl's song any time soon.

With a sharp sigh, Jack wondered if he was the only sane adult in the whole facility and braced himself to play the villain yet again as he told the girl to stop. "That's not a  _talent,_ you're singing the  _alphabet."_ He looked down at the child's file which he held in his hands as he spoke harshly and with an impatience about his tone, "And your voice isn't  _super,_ it's  _average."_

With those final fighting words, Cindy narrowed her eyes while approaching the desk threateningly. "It is  _too_ super." Was all she said before grabbing on to their desk, picking it up without hesitation by her own two hands, and throwing it through the air against the nearby wall with a warning glint in her grey-blue eyes. Shocked, Jack raised his eyebrows in disbelief and looked beside himself to Miss Holloway, who was sporting a surprised yet satisfied smile, as if there was no doubt in her mind that this little girl would do something impressive all along.

After many relentless hours filled with disappointment, arguing, bitter words, sharp sarcasms, and far too little satisfaction, the new Zenith Team was  _finally_ selected.

Jack hoped that the worst was over, but his hopes were soon crushed with the realization that he would now be expected to  _train_ these children to become nothing short of heroic. While the kids were waiting in what would soon become their classroom over the next few weeks, the three adults prepared for the next step in the procedure. Marsha believed that this step would likely be the most challenging, but she wasn't about to let that fact be known. Instead, she smiled enthusiastically through the uncertainty and prepared to introduce the children to the  _great_ and legendary  _Captain Zoom._

> _"There's a room where the light won't find you, holding hands while the walls come tumbling down. When they do, I'll be right behind you. So glad we've almost made it, so sad they had to fade it, everybody wants to rule the world. I can't stand this indecision, married with a lack of vision. Everybody wants to rule the world."_

First impressions had gone exactly how any sane person may have feared they might go.

Unfortunately, this was the exact opposite of how Miss Holloway had  _hoped_ they would go. Miraculously, even through Jack's apparent distaste for Area 52 and his troubling bitterness throughout the auditions, she was still under some delusional impression that he would walk into that room and address the children as their team captain. That he would reassure them and put any and all worries to rest, that he would say exactly what they needed to hear and promise to train them to the best of his abilities, to shape them into superheroes.

What a fantasy  _that_ would be.

Instead, he left the already nervous children feeling nothing short of terrified with respect to what was to come for them at the facility. Not only that, but he had recklessly put the notion into their heads that they would inevitably be blasted with Gamma-13 radiation just as  _his_ team had been back in the day. Within mere  _seconds_ of Jack running his mouth, Marsha realized her mistake in giving him freedom of speech and she ordered him into the hallway before the damage that he was about to do became irreversible.

" _Mr. Shepherd."_ She demanded, a scary look in her eyes that Jack picked up on when he turned to face her from across the room. "Hallway,  _now."_

" _Yeah,_ let's go to the hallway." Jack nearly chuckled, but did as he was told and caught the heavy door before she let it slam behind her on his face as he followed her out of the room.

"I  _already_ told you," Marsha began without hesitation, when Jack finally caught up to her in the clearing of the hallway, "we will  _not_ be dosing the children!" She knew that Jack would have his reservations about the facility's intentions for the team, especially since his own team had so recklessly been ruined by that lethal radiation. But, Marsha also expected him to simply  _believe_ those in charge when they promised to leave Gamma-13 in the past, just as she did. Unfortunately for her expectations, Jack Shepherd's way of life was like night and day in comparison to hers.

Jack crossed his arms as he reflected on the children he'd just been introduced to. Sure, they all had powers that could be shaped into something incredible, but altogether they possessed rather lazy, unmovable attitudes. Frankly, he wasn't sure that they had the potential to get anywhere  _without_ a little radiation. "Well  _sweetheart,"_ he began in a demeaning tone and across from him, Miss Holloway narrowed her eyes in displeasure at the sarcastic use of the would-be endearing nickname, "based on what I've seen in  _there,"_ Jack gestured to the room from which they'd just emerged, "I think you may want to dose them just a  _little bit."_

Suddenly, Marsha wondered if Jack could say anything that wasn't sarcastic. She was forced to  _remind_ herself that this was her  _hero,_ Captain Zoom, that she was speaking with. Somehow, that was easily forgotten as his alter ego was proving with every word out of his mouth that he was  _far_ from heroic. Nonetheless, Miss Holloway also found herself fighting back the urge to wipe that teasing grin off Jack's irritating face. She wasn't sure  _how_ she might manage that one - a  _slap,_ most likely - but there were  _other_ options that she tried her hardest to convince herself that she wasn't considering.

Initially, she'd hoped that Jack's arrogantly rude demeanour was simply a result of his hesitation to participate in anything related to the Zenith Program after what had happened to him in the past, but Miss Holloway now inhaled sharply to herself as she realized that his attitude might not have been a facade at all - this is who he  _was._ How could a once-powerful hero have such a horrible outlook on life?

She came to a realization, though, that most people would look right past. She now understood simply by looking the man in the eyes that  _Captain Zoom_ was nothing more than a character constructed around the sarcastic man standing in front of her.  _Jack Shepherd_ was the reality behind the hero, and she couldn't  _stand_ him.

"I don't think you understand their sensitive conditions!" Marsha argued in defence of the children, her voice now growing louder. She needed to get through to him, she had to somehow make him see that those kids were scared and defenceless and they needed someone to look up to, not someone who would put even more fear into their impressionable minds. But, her arguments were all in vain, as Jack's sanctimonious attitude didn't falter once even as he stared her in the eyes.

She'd severely underestimated Jack Shepherd's ability to prove himself time and time again to be the most self-absorbed person on the planet. "What about  _my_ sensitive condition?" Jack was forced to lean forwards due to the large height difference between the two of them simply to look her in the eyes, prompting the intrusive thoughts to take over his mind. It was perfect really, Marsha was trying to be serious and speak truthful words that he needed to hear, whereas he was now distracted by the trivial aspects of the air between them.

He nearly lost his train of thought as he now considered just how ridiculous their argument truly was. Someone so small and therefore insignificant attempting to fight someone like Jack whose aura was like that of a  _lion_ must have been a sight to be seen. Jack crossed his arms as he continued, that same insufferable glint behind his story blue eyes as his facetious humour took control of the situation. "I'm being forced to betray  _children_ for  _money."_

They stood in brief silence for a beat, though their eyes continued to argue wordlessly. Finally, after the pause became lingering, Marsha gave him an expectant look, "Are you  _done?"_ She asked, now having developed a sarcastic tone of her own.

Giving her a look that was simply  _teeming_ with provocation, Jack decided to target her a little more personally before their argument came to an end using one of the  _very_ few things that he actually knew about her. "I left a little pause in there in case you wanted to slip and fall again."

And with those final detrimental words, the volatile relationship between Jack Shepherd and Marsha Holloway was officially developed.

Their first day of work at the facility wasn't even over yet, and already they'd come to the conclusion that they thoroughly despised the other person. All the while harbouring some basic attraction and intrigue, their irrefutable differences overpowered anything else between them. Marsha narrowed her eyes and wordlessly spun around to walk back down the hallway, reentering the classroom where she would attempt to clean up the mess that Jack had just made with the children.

Jack knew that was where she was headed, and he watched her walk away with an indescribable expression on his face. So, that was how things would be around here. He'd been brought to Area 52 to play the hero and instead he would prove to be the villain. Meanwhile, Marsha Holloway, nothing more than a replaceable wallflower around the facility was going to become the hero that they all needed.

> _"Say that you'll never, never, never need it. One headline, why believe it? Everybody wants to rule the world. All for freedom and for pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world."_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" By Tears for Fears.


	5. Under Pressure

> " _Why can't we give ourselves one more chance? Why can't we give love one more chance? Because love's such an old fashioned word, and love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night."_

One day.

Jack Shepherd had been back at Area 52 for precisely  _twenty-four hours,_ but it felt like it must have been at least a year for everyone around him. After the fatiguing process of carefully selecting which children would make up the new Zenith Team, Jack had hoped that his days at the facility would only get easier. He was trapped here, he didn't get a choice in the matter, but he was going to make it very damn clear that he wanted nothing to do with this place.

Precisely why training was  _already_ going just terribly.

With his unpropitious first impression left on the four children, Miss Holloway had been trying her very hardest to clean up after Jack, but she regrettably would be forced to leave certain things in his hands. After all, this wasn't about  _her._ This was about Captain Zoom training a new team - the five of them would now be labelled the Zenith Team. She was merely behind the scenes training the kids psychologically and contributing to the program as a mere employee of the facility.

Jack's second day at Area 52 had proven to be even more trying than the first had been. Yesterday had been all about the candidates and about orientation for the selected four children. They'd been fitted for training jumpsuits, evaluated on a few fronts, shown around the facility, received pagers and keys to their individual chambers no bigger than a college dorm rooms. They'd been introduced to various people around Area 52 that would be working alongside them, gotten to know each other a bit, and they'd been guided to their own personal lounge for the first time.

There were plenty of open areas to spend time in Area 52 - the cafeteria, multiple study and work halls, an atrium, a library, and more - but the lounge was just for them. It was merely a glorified living room with a television set, a coffee table, a couch, a loveseat, and a chaise. Off to the side was a small rounded table only big enough for two at most, and at the back of the room was a kitchen setup with a counter, cupboards, a fridge, a microwave, a brewing station, a sink, and even an oven. They really needed nothing more.

It almost made it all seem  _fun._ Like they'd all been accepted into some private boarding school where they could be themselves and gain a family while doing so. They were all to be living at the facility now, eating all three meals here, only going home for the holidays. And really, that was okay with them. Nine times out of ten, a child with developing meta-human powers doesn't have a good relationship with their parents. That rang true for all four children, and they were pleased to be making each other's acquaintance and forming a bond with each other far stronger than their individual relationships with their respective parents.

After a short period of briefing and orienting the new team with their unfamiliar surroundings, they were sent off to bed while the adults working on the Zenith Project gathered in one of the smaller conference rooms to sort out what the next couple days would look like. General Larraby headed the meeting with Dr. Grant by his side faithfully and Miss Holloway answering any questions that they failed to answer. Also in attendance was Jack as well as a few more scientists here and there who all did their best to follow along while taking notes. As for Jack, he sat slumped in a seat next to Marsha, who seemed rather irritated by his nonchalant behaviour.

Basically, the team would be considered within their initiation period until Jack and Miss Holloway came to the unanimous decision - as the team's two primary instructors - that the kids had been briefed successfully and the real training could begin. Larraby expressed his desire for the initiation period to last no more than a week, but while Marsha seemed characteristically optimistic, Jack was nothing if not certain that he could draw that out  _much_ longer.

In the mornings, the kids would attend their psychiatric training with Miss Holloway, in the afternoons, they'd spend their physical and tactical training with Jack in the gymnasium. In between, they'd be attended classes that the facility would be providing them with so that they could still maintain their normal academic studies. Just like how Jack and the original team used to live.

Speaking of Jack, the quick progression from being selected out of dozens of kids to be on the team to jumping right into training seemed suspicious. It made him wonder just  _what_ they were being trained for and why it felt like he was working on borrowed time.

Before their meeting was concluded, Larraby had asked to take any questions from the room, and Jack finally held up a hand carelessly with a daunting look in his eye. Dr. Grant held his breath in anticipation, knowing that Jack was about to be difficult, but nodded in his direction anyways.

"Yeah," Jack began, shifting in his seat as he let his previously raised hand fall and rest on the back of Marsha's chair beside him, "I've got some questions." Miss Holloway eyed him suspiciously as he spoke in his usually pretentious tone. "Why choose now to start up a new team?" He demanded facetiously, and Larraby rolled his eyes at the front of the room, "What  _exactly_ do you need those kids for?"

Jack was no idiot, he knew that the government only ever used and abused. The children were going to be used to the military's advantage one way or another, Jack would simply prefer to know just  _how_ they were being sacrificed and why. Without missing a beat, Larraby answered his questions vaguely as he walked towards the door, clearly prepared to leave the room. "The reinstatement of the Zenith Team has been  _years_ in the making. We  _need_ the team for the same reason that we needed  _you_ all those years ago."

With that, the rest of the room slowly but surely filtered out, leaving Jack slouching despondently in his seat as Marsha remained by his side, gathering up a multitude of papers that Larraby had left with her before he'd left the conference room. She wasn't aware that he'd been staring at her, but as she flipped through her newfound documents without even offering him so much as an acknowledgement of his presence, Jack had been examining her face, wondering just what was going on around here and how the hell  _she_ fit into all of it. She was high up on the food chain at the facility, that was clear. Meaning that he couldn't let himself trust her for a minute, not if he had any sense about her.

The complications came from the fact that she was either an  _extremely_ talented actor, or she was simply being used as an unknowing, naive pawn in a much bigger chess game than she was aware of. But, because Jack had no way of knowing which of these answers rang true, he told himself that he needed to be on guard around her. Nonetheless, his opinions were  _always_ stated freely, that wasn't about to change simply because he didn't trust her.

"I don't know how you can be party to all this bullshit with a smile on your face," He began, and his words prompted Marsha - who appeared as though she hadn't even realized that he remained in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside him - to glance over and meet his accusatory eyes, "I really don't."

She tilted her head sideways and arched an uncertain eyebrow, "There's no reason for you to be so doubtful, Mr. Shepherd." She stated simply, standing from her seat and gathering her documents into her arms with that same naive smile gracing her red lips. "Get some sleep," she suggested sincerely, as Jack peered up at her in disbelief, "training starts tomorrow."

Now left alone to sit with his own raging thoughts, Jack knew for certain that he would  _not_ be getting some sleep that night as she'd suggested he do. Instead, he would find himself lying awake for hours dwelling on how unsettled that this entire situation was leaving him. He had once trusted Area 52 and the government that surrounded it because they'd offered him a safe-haven, they gave an uncertain young boy a home and a team, they made him a hero, he had no reason  _not_ to trust him. But, the facility soon became the main antagonist in his life story after the incident, and a burnt bridge like that couldn't be easily mended.

The main source of uncertainty presently came from that same idea of not knowing who he could and couldn't trust. Because of this, it made perfect sense to him that he should settle on the promise not to trust  _anyone._ If he was being forced to live out the rest of his miserable days within the trapping walls of this facility, he would do so cold-heartedly and while remaining suspicious of anyone and everyone around him. It was the only way to prevent any surprise or suffering. Of course, his way of life was bound to make working alongside him extremely difficult for certain people.

 

*****

 

Jack Shepherd sat in a seat at the front of the training gymnasium while the four children stood staring skeptically, awaiting their instruction. They'd spent the first few hours of their day training with Marsha and then working on some academic courses, and now that their lunch break was over, it was time for the real grunt work to begin. Unfortunately for them, Jack didn't have any interest in training them properly, if at all. It wasn't that he didn't know  _how_ to,  _that_ was one thing that he actually  _did_ know, but he'd promised not to put any investment into this team, and he intended to keep that promise.

After a minute of standing there in silence, Summer finally gave in with a sigh and shoved her hands in the pockets of her orange jumpsuit in agitation. But before she or anyone else could begin to berate Jack for lounging around as opposed to training them, the man himself began to speak.

"What did you learn with Miss Holloway?" He asked, as if his question was merely an afterthought. Where his inquiries were coming from, no one knew, but it certainly had nothing to do with his  _own_ training, he was likely just killing time.

"Why do you  _care?"_ Dylan answered definitively before rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disapproval.

" _Touché."_ Jack raised an eyebrow but continued to ponder his thought. He'd mainly asked due to his skepticism of the woman, he certainly didn't know what good she could possibly be doing for the team as someone without any powers of their own surely doesn't know enough about the psychological aspect of them, even if she  _had_ devoted her life to studying them.

After their brief interlude, Tucker dared to ask what Jack would have them all do training-wise to which Jack gestured vaguely towards the equipment with a shrug of his shoulders, indicating that the kids could go do whatever they so pleased. Basically, he was instructing them to train themselves.

 

*****

 

Marsha Holloway's high hopes were about to be crushed at the hand of her hero.

After the children's initial disastrous day of training, Marsha had caught up with them in the lounge and asked with bright eyes how it had gone with Jack. Not only had she  _hoped,_ but she had  _expected_ Jack to take them under his wing, to explain how to develop their powers, to work individually as well as in a group, to try his hardest and to make the kids feel safe. Instead, she was surprised and disappointed to hear that he'd waved them away to work on their own miscellaneous abilities while he sat around and stayed out of it.

She sent the kids off to bed with kindness in her eyes and a warm reassuring honey to her voice, but deep within her, a raging fire was burning. And the minute that the chidren were safely out of her sight, she went on the rampage - looking to have Jack Shepherd's head.

 

_And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie.


	6. High Hopes

> _"Seems to me like I'm just scared of never feeling it again. I know it's crazy to believe in silly things, but it's not that easy. I remember it now, it takes me back to when it all first started. But, I've only got myself to blame for it, and I accept that now."_

Whatever matrimony Jack Shepherd and Marsha Holloway were destined for would take some work, plenty of struggle, and their fair share of pain.

Before complications could arise, before the truth could come out, they were just two pairs of eyes meeting for the very first time. A woman in a green dress and a man in a car shop. Fresh and clean, staring each other in the eye and both mutually experiencing  _that_ feeling. You know the one. It was touch and go right from the very start. When she'd slipped and fallen and when he'd crouched down beside her and their two pairs of blue eyes locked, something inside the both of them shifted of balance, and they'd forever be denying that until they managed to have that imbalance fallen into place.

Of course, when Ed Grant came into the picture and forced Jack's past to come flooding back to him, everything fell away. She remained starstruck beside him as the men argued, because this was back when she assumed he was the hero that she'd been told he was. But, immediately following Grant's words, Jack no longer thought  _anything_ of her. If she was even  _associated_ with that facility, the place that had ruined his life, she was  _nothing_ to him. She couldn't be. And she certainly was not about to get any of his respect nor his pleasantries.

But, she was about to prove to him just how persistent she could be. If for no other reason than for the sake of those helpless children. Sure, she needed a hero, but she'd come this far without one. The kids wouldn't be so lucky, they needed him more than she did, and she intended to get them their hero at whatever cost.

Jack and Marsha were like fire and gasoline, always ready to explode when coming face to face with each other. Because while Jack was an admittedly damaged person who wasn't about to let someone close to him only to have them ripped away in the blink of an eye, Marsha had also experienced her fair share of loss, pain, and treason, just as Jack had. Beginning with her parents, sip ahead to the relationship that left her battered and psychotic, and mix that with various traumatic events that nearly took her life throughout the years.

But, she was so very different from him on a rather fundamental level. Where he closed himself off and decided that the experience of love was not worth the possibility of pain, she opened herself up to any idea one threw at her. She was trusting, far too trusting for someone who had so many scars, and ready and willing to get hurt time and time again. It was for these reasons along with her affiliations to the facility that Jack not only didn't trust her, but didn't particularly like her.

But, Marsha had now been given plenty of reason not to like  _him_ either, and she was about to let that be known. After leaving the children to their own defences during their alleged training session, Miss Holloway was furious with Jack, who was  _supposed_ to be their main source of training. It didn't take long to find him, but once she did, she wasn't letting him off the hook.

They'd known each other for less than two days now, and during that short period of time they'd done nothing but argue. But, they would only bicker about such trivial things for so long, and tonight - as exhaustion and darkness lowered their inhibitions - it was time to get personal.

"There is  _absolutely_ no need to act the way that you do." Miss Holloway stated harshly, and though he'd been trying his hardest to walk away from whatever she was about to berate him with, Jack found himself turning on her sharply to defend himself.

"You don't think so?" He shook his head frivolously as that sarcasm that she so despised laced his voice. "And the fact that this place singlehandedly murdered by own brother, my  _girlfriend,_ and my friends gives me no reason to act a  _little_ bit acrimonious?"

Marsha narrowed her eyes but paused to take in a breath, it wasn't healthy for him to constantly speak the way that he did regarding the incident. "Singlehandedly?" She responded quietly, and already he could tell where she was daring to go with her statement. "It was your -"

Now, Jack's eyes darkened with malice directed fully at the woman before him. "And you don't  _get_ to say that it was my  _brother_ who killed my team,  _you_ of all people have no right to even  _suggest_ that."

"Of  _all_ people?" Marsha blinked back the emotion in her eyes but crossed her arms, coming to her own defence. She'd never known why he hated her so much, but it was evoking some strong negative feelings of her own and she  _despised_ that.

Jack almost let out a bitter chuckle, she could be so blind at times. "Come  _on,_ you  _have_ to know by now that I don't think very  _fondly_ of anyone who chooses to work in this goddamn  _shithole."_

"I'm not sure you think very fondly of  _anyone_ in general." Marsha rolled her eyes, and while her comment was muttered under her breath, it irritated him to no avail.

Scoffing, Jack continued to argue, " _Really?_ You're  _really_ going to try to tell me that I should  _like_ more people?" Her arguments could sometimes seem so impossibly ignorant in his eyes.

"You don't have to act like I have no idea what I'm talking about,  _Mr. Shepherd."_ She spat out his formal name, still refusing to call him by his first name so long as he insisted upon holding her at such an icy distance. Though she always tried to remain unproblematic and pleasant, Marsha Holloway could bite back when necessary. "You know I  _might_ just say something that could  _help_ you?"

Now, Jack nearly walked away from her. "I don't  _need_ your help! I certainly don't remember  _asking_ for it!" He shouted with his back to her, but she wasn't about to let him get away that easily.

Though it was a task and a half in her three inch heels, Marsha managed to get back in front of him and twist his arm. "Frankly, I don't  _care_ whether or not you think you need  _help!"_ There was a look in her eyes that Jack hadn't yet seen from her - desperation, though it didn't really match her words nor her tone. "I don't care if you think I'm  _crazy_ or the most irritating person you've ever met! Whether you like it or not, you are back here and you are  _responsible_ for a team of  _children_ who aren't going to profit from you constantly acting like the world is out to get you!"

Jack stopped in his tracks and looked up at the ceiling, her outlook on life was far too dangerous for sensible people. " _Listen,"_ he began harshly, narrowing his eyes at her as he did so often, "I  _get_ that maybe your world really  _is_ all rainbows and butterflies and that maybe you've never  _had_ to be on the lookout for pain and all the  _shit_ that life can throw at you, but if you keep up this whole  _naive_ idea that you should just be  _happy_ and trusting of everyone all the time, you're going to wind up chewed up and spit out." His words could have been a life lesson, they could have been helpful and held good intentions, but he spoke self-righteously, as if she was less intelligent than he was simply because she was an optimist.

Marsha stood unmoving for a moment as his words sank in - what  _bullshit._ Looking up at him rather sadly, she crossed her arms once more in defence. "You know," her voice was lower now, and Jack could sense that he might have hit a soft spot within her, "everyone knows that life can be  _awful._ You're not the only person who's had to deal with loss and  _pain,_ but you don't have to live the rest of your life in misery because you're still bitter about something that you could be  _learning_ from."

Now, Jack rolled his eyes and stood up straighter. Was she  _really_ telling him that he shouldn't be bitter about the death of his team and the loss of his powers? For her own sake, he hoped that she wasn't. " _Oh,"_ he began sarcastically, but harsher than before, "is that was  _you_ do? People die  _gruesome_ deaths and you just shrug your shoulders and  _learn_ from it?"

She blinked as he spoke and gritted her teeth, he truly was insufferable. "You're unbelievable." She whispered before losing all hope - something that she  _never_ did - and turning to walk away from him.

Now, Jack let out a breathy sarcastic laugh before doing what sh had done earlier and moving in front of her. "Oh,  _no._ No, you  _started_ this, now we're  _doing_ it. You don't get to walk away just because I said something that might actually be true." They would both readily admit, this was by far the worst argument they'd had yet. It was just the two of them, no spectators, no expectations, and no holding back.

" _Fine,"_ she began sharply, her voice louder and more demanding than before, "you want to fight,  _Jack?_ We can fight all  _night_ if you want! But, I'm not going to let you turn me into the pessimistic,  _bitter,_ miserable person that  _you_ are!"

"That's not what I'm trying to  _do,_ here!" He shouted in argument, "I'm just trying to talk some sense into your unrealistic  _fairytale_ world!"

"Just because I don't live my life with defences built up even higher than my own  _ego_ doesn't mean that I'm  _delusional."_ She continued to speak sharply, " _Yes,_ bad things happen, things that leave us  _damaged_ and suffering and bitter, but not  _every_ day will be like that! If you dwell on the past, you'll never let it go, and you'll never move on!"

Jack rubbed his forehead in irritation, " _God,_ I forgot you were a  _shrink."_ He muttered, now resorting to belittling her career. "When are you going to get it in your mind that I just don't  _care_ what you think of me?" He looked at her in mock sympathy, "Call me  _damaged,_ call me miserable, call me the devil himself, I couldn't care less,  _sweetheart._ Just don't try _figure_ me out, you're not going to like what you find and you're not going to have any luck changing me or  _fixing_ me or whatever the hell it is that you're trying to do here!"

"You  _are_ damaged and miserable," Marsha shook her head in disbelief at his stubbornness, "but you know  _damn_ well that there's more to it than that. You were a  _hero_ years ago, that doesn't just fade out of  _existence!_ You  _know_ that you could still be the hero that you once were, you know that you could let yourself care about  _anyone,_ and  _that's_ what scares you more than your own misery does." She spat out her argument in a bitter tone, and she was right, even he knew that. But, the world would implode before he ever admitted to anything of the sorts.

Instead, he would have to take his argument in a different way. Besides, he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he was wrong about her in at least  _one_ sense, and he was about to lay that out on the table. "You know what?" He began, in a dark tone that chilled her into silence as she took a step away from him and re-crossed her arms, suddenly feeling the need for a shield, "I think maybe I was wrong before. I don't think you're as  _perfect_ as you pretend to be, I don't think that you're freakishly optimistic all the time."

"I don't pretend to be perfect." She tried to object, but her words came out as a mere whisper that was overpowered as Jack continued unapologetically.

"I think maybe you're just as messed up as I am." He was watching her meticulously, trying to catch a glimpse of anything as his words targeted her more personally than ever. "And all this  _hero_ bullshit is just your way of saying that  _you_ need help.  _You_ need a hero more than I need to  _be_ a hero."

For the first time since he'd known her, Marsha Holloway was rendered speechless, and something in her eyes told him that she was milliseconds away from actually backing down from their argument. That meant one thing and one thing only - he was spot on. He figured that what she'd said about him was nothing short of the truth, but perhaps he was catching on just as easily as she was. "I'm not..." she began, but clearly was at a loss for words, "...  _no,_ I don't -"

Jack shook his head and looked away from her, " _What?"_ He began insufferably, "Hitting a little close to home, are we?"

His cocky suggestion reignited the fire that once burned behind her eyes, Marsha was ready to fight. "I don't care what you think you know about me." She stated sharply, leaving no room for argument. "You can try to turn this around all you want, but  _I'm_ not the problem here. I'm not  _refusing_ to do something for the good of four  _children._ So keep trying, I don't _care._ Because, I sure as hell am  _never_ going to stop trying to get you to just let yourself  _care_ enough about those kids to  _help_ them!"

Jack nearly threw his hands in the air in frustration, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep having this same argument with her. "You're  _wasting_ your time!"

"You hardly even  _talk_ to them,  _Jack!"_ She yelled over him, "Why is it that you'll talk to me  _all day_ about the  _same_ thing but can't even bring yourself to get to know them?"

"We're not  _talking,_ Marsha!" He raised his eyebrows, they were  _fighting,_ there was hardly any real talking involved.

"Sure, but we're  _here_ having the same argument for the  _fourth_ time today, shouting at each other!" Her long hair shook in front of her shoulders as she turned her head while speaking, "Wouldn't a simply  _conversation_ with your  _team_ be  _far_ easier than  _this?"_ She truly couldn't understand why he could manage to argue with her for hours on end.

" _This?_ This is  _nothing!"_ A lie, but a convincing one. "I'd sit through a  _thousand_ arguments with you out here in the middle of the night before I let myself run around living life like  _you_ do ready and willing to get hurt around every  _corner!"_

Marsha shook her head and braced herself, she was about to shoot some venomous words that may take things a step too far, but they needed to be said. "You mean, you'd rather close yourself off  _further_ than allow yourself to potentially lose  _another_ team and spend the rest of your life blaming yourself for it." It was not a question, she was  _telling_ him how he felt, and she wasn't wrong.

Jack blinked and lifted his shoulders slightly, rather shocked at how freely those words had come out of her mouth. How could such pretty red lips produce such words that cut him like a thousand knives to the chest? "Wow," he breathed, "I guess nothing's off the table tonight, then?"

She could tell by his dark tone that he was now trying to intimidate her, and it was working perfectly, but she refused to even lower her daring eyes. "You wanted to get personal, let's get personal, then." She said coldly.

Jack nodded his head slowly upon realizing what she meant. She was getting back at him for attempting to pry at her own personal life, her own mental state. " _Actually,_ I think I've been saying that I want  _just_ the opposite." He argued back, ready for another verbal slap in the face that he wasn't aware she could deliver.

"Yeah, well, you obliterated any chance of  _that_ when you tried to turn this around on  _me_ the first time."

"So,  _what?_ We can fight about  _me_ and the way that I live all you want, but the  _minute_ I try to do the same to you, it's crossing a line?" He scoffed, and she looked away from him before speaking once more.

"This has nothing to do with  _me!"_ Marsha raised her eyebrows rather helplessly, "This has to do with the fact that you're  _here_ to help those children and even though you're  _fully_ capable of doing so, you're leaving them completely defenceless!"

Jack shook his head darkly at her, "Yeah, if you wanted to get anywhere with me, you probably should have refrained from attacking me using my old team, Marsha."

She sighed sharply, giving him a look that, he would admit, scared him senseless. "I didn't  _attack_ you, Jack! I'm trying to discuss what happened with you in a  _healthy_ manner so that you can hopefully begin to  _finally_ move on from it all!" She shouted, and Jack once again knew that she was nothing if not correct. She turned from him now and began to walk in the direction of her room, with him hot on her heels.

" _Oh,_ so you're doing this all for  _me,_ then?"

Upon hearing his words, Marsha whipped around to face him, ready to fight fire with fire, only to find him much closer to her now than either of them had expected or prepared for. Nonetheless, she wasn't about to back down now. " _Of course,_ I am,  _Jack!"_ That was no secret, she thought that he knew that. "For  _you,_ for the  _kids,_ for the  _team,_ that's  _literally_ my job!"

" _God,"_ Jack rolled his eyes as he spoke sharply, "if I'd _known_ when I saw you out there on the street in that green dress that this is where we'd end up..." He trailed off and looked away, she got the picture, or so he thought. He was telling her that she was irritating, insufferable,  _not_ what he'd been expecting and  _certainly_ not what he'd wanted, but she wasn't going to leave it at that.

Instead, she lowered her own voice and looked away from him in turn, she needed to say it, if for no other reason than to get it in her own head. "You never would have gone out to me, I know." She said quietly, more to herself than to him, but he suddenly stared at her differently than before. Her words disrupted something deep inside him, something that made the whole situation feel wrong and proved that he was certainly still capable of  _feeling,_ even if he refused to believe that.

Upon feeling his eyes snap back to her as if he'd been surprised by her statement, Marsha looked back up at him in slight confusion as he stared intensely, clearly something on the edge of his mind. "No," he began in a different, almost softer, tone that now matched the look in his eyes, " _no,_ I would have." Even he was unsure where exactly he was going with this, his mind had shut off and his emotions were now speaking - something that hadn't happened to him in  _decades._ His heart was taking over and allowing his sense to wander freely.

Now, Marsha smiled rather solemnly as she looked up at him with a bit more respect in her eyes than previously when they'd been fighting venomously. "I know you would have." Her voice was merely above a whisper, they stood so close that neither one needed to speak up in order to get their point across. "Like I said, you're still a hero." She almost flinched, knowing that her words had the potential to set him off and they'd fly right back into another loud, exhausting argument.

" _No,"_ he said again, shaking his head with a look on his face that told her he was rather shocked that she didn't understand his true reasoning out there on the street the other day, "that's not why I would have." He looked away from her now, staring at the dimly-lit hallway behind her.

"Why would you, then?" He looked back at her, half expecting to see a daring look in her eyes as she tried to pry a truth that she already knew but wanted to hear from him. Instead, he was met with her two wide, innocent eyes that meant nothing but good and he knew that. She was genuine, she had no idea what he was talking about, and it reminded him of something he'd learned earlier - she too was damaged. He couldn't know precisely how or why, but he might be able to guess based on the fact that it was now clear that she held no value whatsoever to her own self. She really couldn't see why else Jack might run to pick her up off the pavement other than the fact that it was the heroic thing to do. As if it would take a hero to value her life.

" _Because,"_ his voice was tense now, he was irritated that he had to actually speak the words that he'd suggested, "it was never about  _me_ being a  _hero,_ it was about you.  _I,_ I was  _drawn_ to you,  _okay?"_ Though the connotation of his words were sweet, the presentation itself was more defensive than anything he'd said all night, and it nearly made Marsha giggle. Instead, she managed to keep a straight face due to the sheer shock that she now felt. Jack could see that shock register as clear as day on her expressive face and was immediately glad that he'd said it.

" _You..."_ she stuttered, "... you  _were?"_

" _Yeah,"_ he rolled his eyes, annoyed at himself for daring to  _feel,_ "and I'd never admit it to anyone else, but I'd do it all over again." He paused to take in her face as he too realized just how close to her small figure that he now stood and wondered why she hadn't moved away yet. "Even knowing what I know now." Feeling the soft touch of her hand, meeting those two expressive blue eyes - it was all worth it. Even if he was now reliving his biggest fear.

And it was then that Marsha came to a realization of her own. There was no way that she could give up now, not even after the ugliest argument that the two of them had ever had. Because, clearly, she'd already  _gotten_ under his skin, he practically admitted to that. And if she was already halfway there, she'd get through to him within weeks at most. For the sake of the kids, for the sake of the broken man himself, she couldn't quit now.

"Well, I'm glad you would." she said simply, though her heart was in her eyes for all to see.

Now that he'd had his moment of vulnerability, it was time to cover his tracks. " _Just_ realize that when it comes to me, you're only setting yourself up for disappointment." He said, though most of it was a lie and he knew it. Luckily, she could read him like an open book, and Marsha could also sense his lies as well as the nature of them. "You and me are two  _very_ different people, I'll never be who you want me to be, I'm not the hero that you think those kids need."

Marsha looked up at him and studied his face in a way that he might dare to deem  _lovingly._ "I don't want you to be anyone other than who you are, Jack. That's not what I'm asking." Her voice was soft in a way that would forever haunt him. She truly was an angel in the midst of all this chaos, and Jack feared that she might just be the death of him. "And as for the children, I don't think they need a hero, I think they just need a leader, someone who's been in their position before and can help make this time a little bit easier for them. I'm sure you would have benefited from someone like that back when you were their age."

Suddenly, Jack felt himself  _feeling_ far too many things. He'd never once looked at a woman the way that he was now looking at Marsha Holloway - someone that he vocally  _despised -_ but he looked at her, for  _once,_ precisely how he felt. Like she was something more precious to him than anything else, like he might do anything and everything in his power to prevent the light in her beautiful eyes from ever dying. The warmth within him nearly prompted him to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and take her face in his hand, but he came to his senses before he could ruin the carefully constructed disdain that he'd created for her.

He thought about her words, and there was a degree of accuracy to them. Had Jack's initial team had someone in their corner, constantly and genuinely looking out for their best interest, things might have been different for them all. The incident may not have happened, his entire team could be here today. But, then he realized that the  _someone_ to which they were referring was  _not_ him. It was  _her._ They could do without him, but without  _her,_ they'd all be lost. For a moment, he considered telling her all of this, laying it all out before them to deal with at a later time. But, no. He could tell her at some point, but not now.

Instead, they stood staring in that same close position, neither knowing where they'd take it from there. Luckily, they didn't have to, because they were interrupted by a third party. "Mr. Shepherd?" A youthful voice rang out through the silent hallway, "Miss Holloway?" Both Jack and Marsha flinched away from one another upon seeing Cindy Collins now staring up at them from a few feet away.

"Cindy, what are you doing awake?" Marsha asked softly, leaning down towards the young girl. It was after midnight, she certainly should have been fast asleep.

"I was getting a drink of water but I heard yelling and wanted to make sure that you guys didn't kill each other." Cindy giggled, and Marsha smiled and moved to stand up once more, feeling Jack casually place a hand on her back as she did so as if they'd known each other forever, which was admittedly nice.

" _No,_ we didn't kill each other." Marsha laughed softly at the young girl's suggestion.

Jack kept his hand on Marsha's back as she now stood in front of him but slightly to the side, nonetheless they were closer than before, and she was thankful for the warmth of his strangely friendly touch. "Yet." He joked, and she gave him a sidelong glance.

Cindy glanced between the two of them rather cautiously before Marsha took in a deep breath, braced herself for leaving the suddenly pleasant company of Jack Shepherd, and reached out a hand for Cindy, clearly suggesting that she walk her back to her room. As the young girl took her hand, Marsha turned slightly to look back at Jack, who stood where she'd left him and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Say goodnight to Mr. Shepherd, Cindy." She suggested, and the blonde girl waved with her free hand.

"Night, Mr. Zoom."

"Night, Cindy." Jack said in a low voice, far different than the shouting him and Marsha had been doing earlier. The two of them gave each other a good-natured smile before Marsha and Cindy set off in the direction of Cindy's room and turned the corner, leaving his sight.

 

> _"It's time to let it go, go out and start again. But, it's not that easy. High hopes - when you let it go, go out and start again. High hopes - when it all comes to an end but the world keeps spinning around."_

 


	7. Feels Like We Only Go Backwards

> _"It feels like I only go backwards baby, every part of me says go ahead. I've got my hopes up again, oh no, not again. It feels like we only go backwards, darling. I know that you think you've set sail when you call my name, but I get it inside my head all day."_

 

The following day came and went in that same infuriating manner.

Miss Holloway taught the kids in the morning, and was doing a perfectly sufficient job of it, I might add, but come the afternoon, Jack simply  _refused_ to put his heart or even his mind into anything regarding his training obligations. The main purpose of Jack's training sessions was to inform the kids about their powers and help them to develop and come to control them as well as guide them to build up natural strength for combat. This should have been nothing if not simple considering Jack knew all about having powers and working out.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Jack's apathy didn't allow him to see the importance of putting any effort into training the children in an in-depth manner, or at all, really. Coaching them would take selfless work and attention, and those were things that he just wasn't willing to put into anything involving Area 52. Not only that, he had a reputation to uphold. How could he remain a cold-hearted, selfish, and brooding figure around the facility if he suddenly just decided to go along with everything that was asked of him?

Luckily, the children were all intelligent in their own misguided way. Dylan and Summer stepped up and took it upon themselves to team up and lead the training so that the younger two kids wouldn't get trampled on. This along with Miss Holloway's training could hopefully develop their powers even without the help of Captain Zoom, but it was Jack's attitude that was truly holding everyone back. Just when the kids would take a brazen step forward, he'd send everyone right back to where they started. Not only did his bitter ways evoke much uncertainty from the team of children, but it absolutely exhausted Marsha, who was supposed to be considered is  _partner_ when it came to training the kids.

Her and Dr. Grant were often rendered impatient with Jack's antics as the two of them were putting their own time and effort into the Zenith Team but Jack simply refused to do so. The kids needed him more than ever, they were living and learning in a foreign setting that didn't seem at all safe, they had no idea what their powers would be used for in the long run, and more than anything, they simply needed someone to look up to. They needed a captain to follow, they needed someone who knew what it was like to be standing in their uncertain shoes, someone who they knew would always keep their best intentions in their thoughts and actions.

 While it was Jack who had been  _expected_ to step up and fill this position, it was Miss Holloway herself who immediately came forward out of the goodness of her own heart to help the kids. It was true that she wanted nothing but safety and success for the children and in turn, they trusted her with their very hearts and souls. But, even she couldn't help them in certain ways that she knew Jack  _could_ thanks to his experience on the original team.

Though they were all forced into the same facility to supposedly work  _together,_ it had  _always_ been the heroes versus the government. And as long as Miss Holloway was merely there as a government employee, she'd never truly be fully on their side. Jack, however, knew better than anyone else on earth what going against the powers at be was like. And everyone working close to the team was affected by Jack's toxic refusal to participate. Dr. Grant's hopes were fading, and one could practically  _see_ him growing even more tightly wound with every passing hour as he worried about failing to meet the tyrannous General Larraby's specific standards.

And, though Jack had initially thought it to be impossible, even Marsha's hopeful demeanour was beginning to falter as her invariable smile and unwavering optimism begun to fade and crack as if it had merely been a mask. The positivity that she constantly sported had seemed to become merely a facade. For reasons that were unknown to him at the time being, this was something that Jack actually found to be rather unsettling. In his mind, Marsha's optimism was somewhat of an unchangeable force to be reckoned with. If he was actually capable of breaking that, he must have been beyond help.

After those two disastrous days of training - or lack there of - it was not lost on Jack that his conceited indifference was causing exhaustion to everyone around him. But, there was only  _one_ person who consistently acknowledged this and actually called him out on it. The children assumed that there was nothing they could do about Jack's lack of concern, and Grant was too involved with other things to really pay much attention to it. But, Miss Holloway was constantly at his throat, voicing her opinions and concerns.

Somehow, as they'd come to discover over the past forty-eight hours, there was one particular corner in the Western sector of the facility near the training compounds around which the two of them had managed to physically run into each other on several separate occasions. This seemed to happen no matter how hard he worked at avoiding her - apparently, her clumsiness knew no bounds. It was during these times, when they caught each other off guard, that Marsha would begin to give him a piece of her mind for not putting in an acceptable amount of effort when it came to the children.

Because, she figured, it was  _fate_ who placed the two of them at that corner at that time. She  _had_ to take advantage of the situation and use it to her primacy. As for Jack, when  _he_ wanted to argue, he'd wait outside her room when he knew she was finally on her way to turn in for the night after a long day of work. Both tactics worked to their advantage. Marsha knew she'd be catching Jack off guard around that corner and was ready to pounce whereas Jack knew he'd be catching Marsha exhausted and defenceless after a trying day and that was when he sharpened his own pitchforks.

Regardless of the corner or the dark hallway outside of her room, their arguments would break out wherever they encountered each other around the facility. Their relationship became so explosive that the other employees learned to clear the room when the two of them came face to face with each other. And when they weren't in the mood for a full-blown screaming match, they tried their very hardest to avoid each other. If Jack knew that Marsha was going to be in a meeting, he would opt out. If Marsha saw him coming down the hallway, she'd turn around and take a different route. They were two impossible people. And yet, they were supposed to be working together.

Quite honestly though, Jack was impressed with her persistence. At first, he'd written her off as some flimsy, breakable person who likely wouldn't be able to take his darkness. Instead, she matched it. Not only that, but he certainly hadn't been expecting her to turn out to be the only person he'd ever met who could easily match him in a battle of wits and words. Just when he thought he'd broken her, she refused to back down, and just when she thought she'd gotten through to him, she came across yet  _another_ one of his strong defences.

Jack tried not to let the words that she spoke resonate with him, he argued for the mere satisfaction of  _feeling_ something, not to actually have his opinion swayed thanks to those persistent blue eyes of hers. Either that, or he simply enjoyed the way that she looked whenever she was aggravated at him. He liked the redness that sprung to her cheeks and the dangerous glint that appeared in her eyes.

But, the last thing that he wanted was for someone to actually get through to him. Deep down, he knew that he was being unpleasant and overly difficult, but he didn't need anyone actually forcing him to let himself care about things again or put passion into anything that could be considered a risk. He didn't need to let his guard down. Frankly, he thought that was impossible. Apparently, his walls were something that he took for granted.

Nonetheless, he truly did admire her persistence. The fact that she must  _really_ care about the wellbeing of the team in order to berate him so frequently was not lost on him. Over the past couple days, she'd been putting all her resources and energy into helping them be the best that they could be while supporting them along the way. She'd tried to ease that scary transition from normalcy to a military-based life for she too knew how difficult that could be.

All things considered, she  _couldn't_ possibly just be someone who was merely interested in what the team's success would mean financially for the government. To do what she did, to put genuine heart and soul into a the people involved, took someone who was invested in their personal prosperity. And that should have shut Jack up. It should have twisted his arm and he should have come to his senses and just  _admit_ that he trusted her,  _liked_ her, even. But instead, he did what he did best and continued to remain suspicious of her every move simply for the sake of her ties to the facility.

The truth of the matter was that while Marsha had more than enough reason to berate him with constant arguments as she tried to force him to open his eyes to the truth, he really had no real reason of doing the same to her. He claimed that he was mad at her for trying to weasel her way past his barricades, and yet he still sought her out, knowing full well that she'd just keep trying. Perhaps he was more willing to let someone work their pay pas his defences than he was consciously aware of.

That being said, as Jack dared to enter the scientist's lounge of the facility, he had no idea that he was in for yet another rude awakening.

 

> _"When I realize I'm just hoping onto the hope that maybe your feelings don't show, the seed of indecision is in me, oh no. Because I decided long ago, but that's the way it seems to go. When trying so hard to get to something real, it feels like I only go backwards."_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Feels Like We Only Go Backwards" by Tame Impala.


	8. What Makes You Think You're the One

> _"What makes you think you're the one who can laugh without crying? What makes you think you're the one who can live without dying? What makes you think I'm the one who'll be there when you're calling? What makes you think I'm the one who will catch you when you're falling?"_

Every damn time that Jack Shepherd had cautiously set foot in the scientists' private staff room, he ended up regretting it. Typically because of one  _specific_ scientist. He wasn't  _technically_ supposed to be in there in the first place, because he wasn't  _technically_ a scientist. But, they all went on and on about wanting him to act like a  _real_ employee of Area 52, the least that they could do was let him into the break room. Besides, he needed a place to be around adults that weren't constantly working.

The staff room was the only place he could get away from the kids for a while, which is why he sometimes found himself using the room to make a coffee or take a break between training sessions. Unfortunately, getting away from the kids meant throwing himself right into Marsha's warpath. It was one for the other, and it was always a risk whether or not she'd run into him, but Jack had always been a fan of danger, so he didn't really mind.

Marsha often used the room herself, but never stayed long as she was constantly working on things that could have easily been put off for at least long enough for her to take a fifteen minute coffee break. She was uptight, that was the bottom line And Jack intended to find out why in order to make his own life a little easier where she was concerned. She was uptight, and yet she was cheerful and bright and friendly - a combination that didn't often work together harmoniously in the way that it did for her.

Today, at nearly six o'clock in the evening of Jack's second day back at the facility, he'd been standing in the scientists' lounge near the counter at the back of the room brewing himself a pot of his regular coffee while nonchalantly reading over a newspaper that had been laid on the counter when the door swung open across the room to reveal Marsha herself. Though, Jack had no idea that anyone had even entered the already busy room as he was in his own little self-absorbed world which clearly revolved around himself and didn't necessarily feature  _her_ whatsoever.

In fact, he didn't even notice her presence now directly in front of him until she started speaking. "You were late for training, today." Jack heard the words and recognized her voice, but thanks to his newspaper blocking her entire body before him, he glanced around himself curiously before lowering the paper from in front of him to reveal Miss Holloway standing with her arms crossed and a familiar agitated glint in her eye that Jack so often produced.

"You know," Jack began, about to comment on her silent arrival while ignoring her statement as he folded the paper and set it back down on the counter, "for someone who wears such ridiculous shoes," he gestured down at her three-inch heels that were in no way ridiculous so much as they were simply appropriate for a woman in the workplace, "you have the strangest ability to sneak up on people." His voice sounded rather deadpanned as he teased her in order to get out of the argument that they were inevitably going to have.

What Marsha never seemed to pick up on was the fact that, when he wasn't arguing with her, Jack Shepherd was constantly and  _shamelessly_ flirting with her. Somehow, unbeknownst to him and the people who happened to observe the two of them, she had continuously remained positively oblivious. There was good reason for this, however. Because, in Marsha's mind, how could a great and powerful hero such as Captain Zoom ever hazard a second glance towards someone as  _regular_ as she?

"I  _told_ you yesterday, Mr. Shepherd, that you  _have_ to show up on time if we're going to get anywhere with their training!" A few of the lingering scientists in the room on their breaks noticed the pair standing together and - knowing that they were about to launch themselves into one of their infamous arguments - had cleared the room.

"Okay," abandoning the coffee that had not yet been brewed, Jack began to walk away from her, not in the mood for whatever she was going to berate him for this time, "I can already tell that this conversation is going to give me a headache, so if you don't mind -"

Whatever snarky comment he had in mind was cut short when Marsha interrupted, "We wouldn't be  _having_ this conversation if you'd just  _listened_ to me in the first place!"

Turning back around to face her, Jack scoffed. "What does it  _really_ matter if I'm  _fifteen_ minutes late for training every now and then?"

Rolling her eyes, Marsha was again taken aback by Jack's consistently apathetic mannerisms. " _Because,_ it's not going to  _be_ every now and then, is it? It's  _always_ going to happen, I can already tell! And we need them trained and ready as soon as possible and we can't  _do_ that if you're  _constantly_ wasting time!"

"Maybe the truth is that I just don't  _need_ as much time as you have set aside for me to train the kids, ever think of that?" Jack crossed his arms and leaned towards her slightly as he argued, trying to catch a glimpse of anything other than irritation behind her eyes, "Maybe I'm just  _that_ good. Feel free to admire me."

She rolled her eyes again, her time for admiration had come and gone. "I would  _admire_ you more if you would just do your job."

" _Listen,"_ Jack began almost harshly as he gestured with his hands and she blinked back at him, "I  _get_ that you're waiting for me to be whatever kind of  _hero_ that you were told that I was, but you're wasting your time."

Looking away from him momentarily, Marsha realized that he truly believed himself to no longer possess any kind of qualities that were even remotely heroic. The complicated part came from deciphering just why a man who thought so little of himself could be so goddamn arrogantly self-absorbed. He only ever did things for himself and yet, he despised himself.

But, Marsha currently wasn't in the mood to let herself soften her words and give in to his attempt to put an end to their argument. She needed to get her point across, for the sake of the children. "It doesn't take a  _hero_ to show up on time for training." Cocking her head slightly to the side, she began to say everything that she needed to say. "You know, they're never going to improve at all if you  _refuse_ to get over yourself and to put some actual  _effort_ into forming them into a proper team, it's  _really_ not that hard, Mr. Shepherd. I don't understand why you just  _refuse_ to let yourself  _care_ more about what we're trying to  _do_ here!"

Little did she know, Jack had zoned out seconds ago and successfully ignored each and every word she said as he allowed himself to realize just how attractive she was when she argued with him. Admiring the way that her earrings dangled when she moved her head to make a point, he couldn't help but wonder - rather panicked - if the biggest reason that he  _constantly_ egged on their arguments was because of just how pleasing she was to watch when she got irritated. Were that the case, it was dangerous.

But hell, if Jack was forced here against his will, he could at least have some fun with it, right?

When the air between them had been silent for a beat too long as Jack continued to ponder his own thoughts and Marsha awaited his reaction, he raised his eyebrows expectantly and she gave him a look as if to say, " _well?"_

"Yeah," he cleared his throat and looked away, "I can't say I listened to a word of that." After giving her a look of counterfeit apology, Marsha's eyes suddenly lit up with an agitated fire unlike any he'd seen before and, were they not interrupted when Dr. Grant suddenly cleared his throat from the doorway, she surely would have blown up on him unlike ever before.

They both turned to look at the older scientist who had just entered the room and cautiously made his presence known as he could tell that whatever had just been happening between Jack and Marsha, it wasn't pleasant. "Miss Holloway, you're needed in the lab." Was all he managed to say before she looked back at Jack and sighed extremely sharply in his direction before exiting the room, leaving the two men alone with the aftermath.

" _God,"_ Jack shook his head as Grant entered the room fully, "has she  _always_ been like that?" He busied himself by finally pouring that cup of coffee.

Grant shrugged, "People don't usually challenge her the way that you do around here."

" _Challenge_ her? She's challenged all the time." Jack said, knowing that not many people took her very seriously at the facility due to her small stature and timidly enthusiastic attitude or lack of coordination when it came to simple things - like walking. Though, she had the knowledge and the perseverance to be world renowned, she was often looked right past.

"Not in the way that you challenge her. Everyone else  _wants_ to be here, worked hard to get here. She's had to work her entire life to get where she is not, harder than anyone else here, in fact. She sees working here and doing what she does as a privilege that she dedicated not only her career but her entire life towards realizing. Seeing that you have absolutely no interest in being here even though you're desperately needed probably irritates her something awful." Grant paused, considering another forgotten aspect of it all, "Plus, most people here  _like_ her."

Jack rolled his eyes and stirred his coffee, "Oh, come on," he muttered, "I  _like_ her." His statement seemed weakly convincing.

Grant scoffed from where he stood, "Well," he began sarcastically, "if you two  _like_ each other then you sure have a strange way of showing that."

Jack narrowed his eyes, he'd never thought of it that way before. Realizing suddenly that he really knew nothing about the woman, he let himself give in to that moment of weakness and inquire further. "So," he leaned up against the counter, taking a sip of his hot coffee as Grant took a seat at a nearby table and began to fiddle with his hands, "what's her story, then? How'd she get so  _tightly wound?"_ Though he was seriously wondering, Jack couldn't help but sneer as he described her agitating state of being.

Dr. Grant shrugged yet again as he tore open the lid of his yogurt. "It's like I said, she worked probably ten times harder than the next person to get here. She's certainly had her fair share of hardships." Jack raised his eyebrows, he'd had her pegged as someone who hadn't seen a day of pain or suffering in her life. " _More,_ than her fair share." Grant rephrased his statement upon further reflection. 

"What," Jack was still in full-on ridicule mode. He believed that the definition of  _hardship_ for someone like her must be very different than for someone like him, "did her parents  _expect_ too much from her?" He joked in a voice dripping with sarcasm that Grant really didn't even pick up on as he focused on the food before him.

"Her parents are dead." He said, so nonchalantly that the morbid shock of his statement hit Jack twice. Grant just nodded his head, "Died in a car accident when she was sixteen. On her birthday or something tragic like that." He couldn't remember exactly. In fact, it had bee the day  _before_ her sixteenth birthday. "I assume it's why she never celebrates it."

"Huh." Jack nodded his own head, surprised to find out that Marsha Holloway had been a teenage orphan. "I never would have guessed."

Grant simply gestured with his fork, "Please, that's only scratching the surface. You wouldn't  _believe_ the things that she's been through." Jack raised his eyebrows, clearly pleading for the man to go on. But, Grant refused out of respect for his esteemed colleague. "They're not my stories to tell." He said with a shrug.

So, she wasn't flawless. She wasn't a stock character. Suddenly, Jack wondered if maybe she was just as wounded as he was, she just wore it differently. She wore it  _well,_ that was the difference.

 

> _"Every little bit is there to see, every little bit of you and me. What makes you think I'm the one who will love you forever? Everything you do has been done, and it won't last forever."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "What Makes You Think You're the One" by Fleetwood Mac.


	9. Bitter

> _"Lend me your brakes again, you're more than my speed. I've played heartstrings before, but not in your key. You tell me you're waiting for someone, but you haven't heard. You've broken promises to me, so fuck your word. And again, and again, you're breaking me down. Let me in, let me in from the dark of this town."_

 

Upon awakening the following morning on his third day at Area 52 just as bright and early as everyone else did, Jack was not looking forward to the up and coming day of training upon him. It was Wednesday, which he had been informed was the one day of the week that would be devoted to assessing the children's abilities and improvements. That meant tedious observation followed by relentless paperwork, and he had no interest in that. It also meant that there would be no morning psych training with Miss Holloway, the kids would go straight to the gymnasium and Marsha would be right there alongside Jack in the observation panel taking notes of her own.

Though he was dreading the day ahead of him, Jack note that he was someone feeling rather refreshed and was confused for a moment before realizing that it was because he no longer had the headache that he had fallen asleep with. Conjuring up the memory of that argument with Miss Holloway in the break room the day before, he remembered just  _where_ he'd gotten the headache in the first place.

Everything that she'd said to him was true, it always was, but he would be damned if he was going to admit that to even himself let alone  _her_ or anyone else. In his opinion, she would simply have to open her own eyes to the fact that this is who he was now, there was nothing that she could say or do to change that. It didn't take long, however, for him to realize that he might not have had her as figured out as he had believed that he did a few days ago.

There was something about her that resulted in confusion and he wasn't sure why, but it annoyed the hell out of him.  _She_ annoyed the hell out of him. Her irritating optimism, her naive outlook, her persistency, her inability to let things go, he couldn't stand any of it. So, why did he still find himself cleaning up his appearance that morning with her in mind? With a shake of his head, he decided that  _that_ was a question for another day.

By the time that Jack had finally made his way to the observation chamber above the gymnasium, Dr. Grant and Miss Holloway were already in the middle of assessing young Cindy's powers below. Upon evaluating Marsha's disposition from afar and deeming her  _all too_ chipper for so early in the morning, Jack braced himself for her excitement with a grit of his teeth.

"It's remarkable," he heard her saying to Dr. Grant, who seemed a bit tired himself though he tried to humour her with a nod of his head, "two point five tonnes per arm!" Marsha excitedly scribbled something along those lines on the clipboard in her hands before turning her attention back to the young girl in the training room who was effortlessly holding ten thousand pounds above her head. If she had heard Jack enter the room, Miss Holloway didn't acknowledge it.

Finally allowing his presence to be known, Jack stepped in between the two scientists and gave Grant an understanding look regarding Marsha's innocent enthusiasm before reckoning himself prepared to glance in Miss Holloway's cheerful direction. She must not have heard him enter the room after all, because she looked rather surprised to see him looking bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and  _on time._ " _Wow,"_ before she could stop herself - because she surely  _would have_ had she considered her words - she spoke, "you  _shaved?"_ After realizing what she'd said, a slight blush came to her cheeks as she bit her tongue.

Wondering why she had recently acquired the unbecoming talent of exclaiming things without even thinking about what she was saying, she realized that Jack seemed to have the ability to sway her judgement. He himself looked nothing but pleased at her statement as he revelled in the pink on her cheeks. Satisfied that she'd distinguished his efforts - they  _were_ for her, after all - Jack leaned towards her flirtatiously, " _Wow,_ you  _noticed."_ He hoped that she would at least  _acknowledge_ his advances, but she'd proven time and time again to be thoroughly oblivious with respect to all the flirting that he'd been doing since the moment that he laid eyes on her. Although, it may supposedly have gone unnoticed due to all the arguing that they'd also been doing.

Turning his attention to the subject at hand, the first thing that Jack noticed about Cindy was  _not_ the exceptional use of her impressive powers, but the clothing that she was sporting. The pink princess dress that she had on looked like it had come straight from a costume store, and looked  _nothing_ like the orange jumpsuit that she was  _supposed_ to wear. Jack didn't have any idea as to why she was allowed to wear such a getup during professional training, but he  _also_ knew that one look into the child's innocent eyes, and  _Marsha_ would never be able to say no, so that might have had something to do with it.

Needing to address the issue, Jack hit the button on the nearby intercom which projected his voice down to the young girl in the training room. " _What_ are you wearing?" He demanded, with a rather defeated tone to his already tired voice.

"I'm a princess!" She stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, successfully avoiding his question. Depleted, Jack looked to his right where Miss Holloway stood, hoping to get some help from her. Instead, he found that she had been once again entranced and overcome by Cindy's charmingly childish antics.

He rolled his eyes and continued to argue with the six year old, " _Cindy,_ you're not a princess."

"But, I look pretty!" Everybody in the room above could sense a tantrum coming, but Jack continued to press farther. He was going to be the death of them all.

"Yeah, but  _pretty girls_ don't have any real friends and never get any respect," he didn't even glance in Marsha's direction as he formulated a way to insult her while speaking to Cindy, but he gestured towards her, "take Miss Holloway, for instance."

" _Hey."_ Was all Marsha had the chance to argue in her defence before Jack's hand was on her back, urging her to flee to safety as Cindy threw a weight at the booth, successfully shattering the supposedly unbreakable protective glass.

 

> _"Why am I bitter, bitter, bitter? Why am I always led astray? It's going to get better, better better, I'd always hear you say."_

 

Later that day, Jack's hopes for having a minute to spend alone in silence were obliterated when he accidentally ran into Marsha around that infamous corner. Before Jack could even apologize, she spoke in a hurried but not particularly unpleasant voice, "Oh good, I was just looking for you." As she began, Jack took on a skeptical demeanour, she was  _never_ pleased to see him, which meant that there was likely some kind of favour that she needed from him. "I need you to talk to Cindy."

" _Me?"_ He interrupted before she could explain any more. He wanted to make it plainly obvious that he wanted nothing to do with whatever she had in mind for him, but before he could even begin to object, she had a hand on his bicep and was leading him towards the closed door of the children's classroom. Through the small glass window pane, Jack could see the young girl in question sitting in the room, swinging her legs absentmindedly at her desk with her back towards them.

"You have to get her to stop throwing things, not only is it dangerous, but it's costing us funds." Luckily, Miss Holloway was looking at Cindy through the window as she spoke to Jack, for if she had been looking in his direction, she would have seen the nonchalant look on his face and started an argument that neither of them really wanted to have.

"That's not my problem," Jack shrugged impatiently with a bitter roll of his eyes, " _you_ deal with it."

Upon hearing his characteristic objection, Miss Holloway finally looked his way, with the slightest hint of surprise in her eyes. For some reason, no matter how familiar she had become with his apathetic ways, she would always be expecting Jack to do the right thing and unwillingly be taken aback whenever he refused. "I really think it would be better coming from you. Besides, it might show her that you're the leader of their team and that you're the person who she'll go to for things."

Jack suppressed the urge to chuckle bitterly at her naively optimistic hopes when it came to him. "You  _know_ I have no interest in being that person."

Letting out a sigh that resulted more from exhaustion and disappointment than irritation, Marsha really hoped that Jack didn't walk away from her just yet as she didn't really feel like chasing him down the hallway. "Couldn't you just -"

"I don't get why  _you_ don't just talk to her." Jack interrupted her plea, " _You're_ the shrink, isn't that kind of your  _thing?"_

"I talk to her all the  _time,_ Mr. Shepherd." Miss Holloway attempted to keep her temper controlled, though her teeth were clenched shut. "Would it  _kill_ you to just deal with this  _one_ issue?" And just like that, her voice had taken on what Jack recognized to be a specifically agitated tone reserved for him and him alone signifying their transition from their conversation into an argument.

" _Yeah,_ I really just don't care enough about any of this to step in at this point." He argued sarcastically knowing that it would only irritate her further.

His condescending tone evoked the narrowing of her eyes as Marsha continued, "It's not like I'm asking you to -"

"Why can't you just do it yourself if it's  _so_ -"

"Jack,  _please?"_ Her voice had shifted from argumentative to fatigued and definite, even with slight traces of pleading. It was clear that she could continue arguing should she need to, but she was finalizing her present argument by merely asking him if he would do this  _one_ thing for  _her._

Jack didn't know what it was, and he was certainly unfamiliar with whatever had shifted inside of him in that moment, but he could feel himself easily caving to her wishes and all he could do was sigh in admission of defeat. As he rolled his eyes once more and moved past her to enter the classroom, he caught the glimpse of a pleasantly surprised smile forming on her face.

If she'd known that getting him to agree to her wishes was that simple then she would have tried it a long time ago. On the other hand, if  _he'd_ known that agreeing to those wishes resulted in getting to see  _that_ smile, then  _he_ would have tried  _that_ a long time ago.

"Mr. Shepherd," Cindy called to him before he was even finished entering the classroom, "what were you and Miss Holloway talking about out there?" Jack could now see that Cindy wasn't simply passing the time in the classroom by herself out of boredom, she had about a dozen Barbie dolls spread out on her desk and was currently butting barrettes into the hair of one of them.

"Apparently, I'm supposed to tell you that you've got to stop throwing things around when you get frustrated." He said, hoping that their conversation would be quick and easy, so he didn't even bother to pull up a chair, instead he shoved his hands into his pockets casually.

Unfortunately for him, Cindy seemed to completely ignore what he'd just said and moved on to a topic of her own choosing. "You're going to marry her, you know." She stated decisively with a mischievous grin and moved on to the next doll.

Confused, Jack had no idea what she was talking about. " _What?_ Who?"

"Miss Holloway," Cindy continued, as if it was a very simple concept, "you're going to marry her."

Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise and tried his hardest not to laugh out loud sarcastically, the thought of him and Marsha even  _getting along_ at this point in time was enough to evoke satirical implications. "Where the hell did you get  _that_ idea from?"

"Well, you  _like_ her, don't you?" The child asked innocently.

" _Cindy,"_ Jack now finally deemed it necessary to sit down in a nearby chair that was entirely too small for him, "have you not  _seen_ us together?"

"I know that you guys fight a lot, but that's not what I mean. I mean you  _like_ her like her." As she continued to brush her doll's hair, the troublemaking smile reached her eyes as Jack realized that she was enjoying teasing him.

"Kid, I can promise you right now that we're  _not_ going to get  _married,_ that's ridiculous."

"Then what  _were_ you talking about in the hallway?"

"Not  _marriage!"_ Jack said rather defensively, but Cindy just looked on expectantly, telling him to get to the point. "Well, it's like I said before, people are getting..." he struggled to find the correct term, "...  _concerned_ about the way that you react when you get frustrated."

"You mean, when I throw things?"

"Yeah, it's not safe, you could end up hurting someone, and I'm sure you don't want that."

"Okay, I'll stop." She said with an easy smile and went back to her dolls. Jack raised his eyebrows, if only arguing with  _everybody_ around here was that easy. He stood to leave the room when Cindy spoke once more in a teasing tone, "I still think you're going to marry Miss Holloway."

Jack simply rolled his eyes and left the room, not knowing why he suddenly was feeling rather  _warm._

 

> _"Tell me I'm great again, and I'll love you more. Ride high fake confidence, right down to my core. Strike a nerve like an airstrike raid, all under my skin. I'll wear a mask to cover myself, in the shape of a grin. And again, and again, you're breaking me down. Let me in, let me in from the dark of this town. Why am I bitter, bitter, bitter?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Bitter" by Palace.


	10. Meet Me In the Hallway

> _"Meet me in the hallway, give me some morphine, is there any more to do? Just let me know, I'll be at the door, hoping you'll come around."_

The long days that were supposed to be filled with training continued in the same futile manner as they had since the very formation of the new team. Jack decided that since he himself was getting bored with how bitter he had been acting, it was time to take on a new outlook. And that outlook consisted of having his own kind of fun around the facility at the expense of nearly everyone else around him.

If there was one thing to be known about Jack Shepherd, it was that while he under no circumstances took  _chances,_ especially those involving his own fragile emotions, he was quite fond of taking  _risks_ that could lead to the demise of no one but himself.

On the fourth day, he awoke wondering what kind of  _trouble_ he could get himself into and just  _who_ he could drag down with him.

Since Miss Holloway was sufficiently preoccupied that morning with a day full of meetings, Dr. Grant was supposed to take over the portion of the children's training that Marsha would usually be in charge of. But, he had unfortunately and suddenly been called to a meeting of his own, reluctantly leaving the children in the ever so  _capable_ hands of Mr. Shepherd for the entire day.

Within a half hour, Jack had successfully hijacked the old flying saucer - becoming a  _national_ _security threat,_ I might add - with the help of the children and they had been to Wendy's and back. Though, of course, not without managing to avoid the press along the way.

Meanwhile, back at the base, Miss Holloway had caught a glimpse of a local newscast and knew immediately just  _who_ was behind this unfortunate incident of misconduct.

The minute that the team stepped back into the bunker at the facility, Jack could sense that there was hell to pay, and that it came in the form of a petite brunette woman in heels whose eye he had caught from across the room. As she walked towards him, Jack could practically  _feel_ the exasperation, fury, and utter exhaustion that was currently overcoming the poor woman. Nonetheless, Jack simply grinned in anticipation. "Dylan, I would disappear if I were you." He suggested to the young man beside him who did just that and vanished without a trace.

Jack met Marsha halfway, wondering just how far he might be able to push her today. He decided that as long as he was already in trouble, there wasn't much harm in making it worse. "Hey,  _Marsha."_ He said in a faux cheerily manner, though anyone could have picked up on the challenging look that he was giving her.

"Do you even  _know_ what you've done?" She asked him, currently overwhelmed by the amount of public relation work she would have to do in order to put the issue that he'd caused to bed. Larraby would surely be furious when he found out, which meant that Marsha would have to plead on her very  _knees_ to save Jack's unapologetic ass.

Without even bothering to acknowledge her anger-filled words, Jack interrupted, " _Yeah,_ I brought you a hot chicken sandwich." He said persuasively with a testing smile, hoping that bringing her lunch might help to make up for his little excursion.

She simply rolled her eyes and sighed. Some good that would do for her, she didn't even eat meat. "No,  _thank you!"_ She responded in disbelief, hoping that he would bring his attention back to the matter at hand as her irritation rose with each passing moment that she spend in his presumptuous presence.

Jack raised an eyebrow, deciding instead of focus on what she'd just said. "Are you a _vegetarian?"_ He knew that there was something  _off_ about her, that would explain it.

Though she ignored his pointless inquiry, the taken aback look in her eyes told Jack that he had been spot on. "You're supposed to be  _training_ the children for their first  _simulation!_ Instead, you're off  _gallivanting_ in a  _stolen_ spaceship!"

Scoffing at her old-fashioned choice of words, Jack continued to prod simply because he knew that it would annoy her to the maximum capacity. "I'm sorry, was I  _gallivanting?"_ He teased, and she shot him a warning look, which he ignored. "Looks like the saucer's not the only thing stuck in the fifties."

She inhaled sharply and narrowed her eyes at him. Jack could plainly see her searching for a proper way to execute the perfect comeback, and it likely would all be in vain. " _You're_ probably  _fifty!"_

Staring at her for a moment, jack pressed the locking button on the saucer keys in her face before walking away. As he left, she could hear him chuckling at her strangely endearing weak argument in an arrogant way that left her blood boiling.

> _"I've got to get better, and maybe we'll work it out. I walked the streets all day, running with the thieves because you left me in the hallway. Give me some more, just take the pain away."_

It was nightfall now, which could only mean one thing and one thing only - it was time for the real fight to begin.

The day was technically over, and it had been as unsuccessful as the three previous. Marsha was exhausted with Jack's bitterness, all she wanted was the best for the kids, and she couldn't achieve that if Jack was constantly standing in the way.

But, she'd had a long, tiresome day filled with fending off explosive phone calls from government officials around the nation complaining about Area 52's recent saucer incident. She'd hoped that she could finally turn in for the night sometime around eleven, but Jack simply wouldn't let her.

"You know, you can be absolutely  _infuriating,_ sometimes." Marsha said sharply, narrowing her eyes as she turned the corner with him hot on her three-inch heels.

" _I_ can be infuriating?  _I'm_ not the one who's constantly making  _pointless_ lists and going on and  _on_ about how we're not  _trying_ hard enough and starting the same old arguments every  _damn_ night!"

"I -" Marsha began, but spun around to face him after deciding to rephrase her next statement. Her sudden turn caused him to nearly run right into her. Though a collision was prevented, the two now found themselves standing immensely closer to each other as their bitter argument progressed without an end in sight. " _Excuse me,_ but  _I'm_ not the one starting the arguments! If you haven't noticed, we're standing at  _my_ door, yet again, because you have  _followed_ me all the way here to keep this argument going!"

She was right, of course. But, Jack was stubborn. "I'm just trying to get to  _my_ room!  _Believe_ me, if I had a choice, it  _certainly_ would be on the  _opposite_ side of the facility from  _yours!"_ His argument was childish, but she didn't notice because they weren't immune to becoming quite immature while arguing with each other.

"Oh really,  _that's_ the problem, here? That your  _room_ is too close to mine?" She challenged him, narrowing her eyes though neither of them seemed to yet notice the lack of distance between the two of them and move apart.

"Well, that's  _one_ of the problems!" Jack said defensively, countering her argument but leaving her to wonder just  _what_ the other supposed problems really were. He didn't know how and he sure as hell didn't know  _why,_ but as he stood there staring down at her irritated face, he suddenly found himself having to refrain from putting an end to their insatiable bickering by kissing her then and there. It was  _crazy,_ and he damn well knew it. But, that didn't change a thing.

Marsha blinked away his useless argument and inhaled rather sharply, implying that she was about to verbally disagree, but the words never came to her as she suddenly realized just how close she was standing to the man that, only four days ago, she practically  _worshipped_ though she'd never even met him. How far they'd come.

She realized that she had been holding her breath, and she reckoned that it was because she simply couldn't decipher the meaning behind the way that Jack was currently looking at her. Maybe he always looked at her that way, maybe it was normal, maybe she just never noticed because she'd never stood this close to him before for such a prolonged period of time.

But, had his eyes always been the colour of a dark, stormy ocean? If so, she was certainly only just now noticing. And why did she now glance down at his lips as if to tell him  _exactly_ what she was thinking? She could nearly  _feel_ herself blushing as the reckless thoughts bounced around her noisy head.

Upon realizing that the silence had gone on for far too long as their eyes burned into each other, Marsha shook her head slightly and took a tentative step back, averting her eyes as she regathered her thoughts. Jack cleared his throat but rolled his eyes, still bitter from their argument as she crossed her arms and finally let out the sigh that she'd been holding in.

She looked at him wordlessly but expectantly and he just gave her a look that plainly said, _well, I guess we're done here,_ so she just rolled her own eyes and turned away, unlocking her door swiftly and slipping out of sight. Before she did so, she sharply bid him, " _Good night."_ And thus marked the definitive end to their conversation and their night.

After her door had been closed, Jack stood in place for a second or two, processing what had happened as he thought to himself,  _shit. Did we just have a moment?_

It really was just a  _moment,_ but it hit him like a ton of bricks. What had even happened? One second, they were arguing - snapping at each other bitterly about this and that, driving them both utterly up the wall - the next second, there was a silence that lasted just long enough for Jack to understand that there had been an undeniable shift in the way that he suddenly looked at her.

He had been trying his hardest to stay mad at her and simply focus on the argument at hand, but there was something preventing him from doing so. As he leisurely made his way back to his own room, he replayed the moment in his mind to try and decipher every confusing aspect of it.

It all started with that one damn fluorescent light that the facility just  _refused_ to have fixed. It was flickering, which shouldn't have been a problem so long as neither of them were prone to seizures. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that it began to light up only half of Marsha's face at random moments for only milliseconds at a time as it continued to flicker erratically. Jack couldn't concentrate on their argument because he suddenly found himself too busy waiting for the split seconds that the left side of her face would be illuminated again.

The shadow that it produced was alluring to say the least, and that kind of thinking was dangerous for a man in his position. He was angry at her, he had to remind himself of that. He had been trying to get his point across and she was making that difficult by relentlessly arguing with him. He didn't need to be distracted by anything other than that. But, fate wasn't on his side tonight. He held on to the moments that the true peachy pigment of her fair skin would light up in the darkness. The seconds that he would glimpse the constellation of delicate freckles lightly lining her cheeks and nose.

He had been captivated by the colour that the lights reflected into her eyes and then came to realize that he was enchanted by her eyes, period. In fact, he was only now noticing that he'd never seen that colour of blue before. And hell, it was the most beautiful colour he'd ever seen in his life. While they argued, he had allowed himself to wonder just where her glasses were, as they certainly were not perched on her nose tonight, hiding the true beauty of those bright eyes.

He wondered why the smell of her perfume as so intoxicating to him that he wished he could drown himself it in. He wondered if her hair had always cascaded down her shoulders and framed her face in such a beguiling way all the while smelling of some kind of tropical flower.

He knew what happened.

Suddenly, she was not Miss Holloway - the woman that he worked alongside of that wore an oversized lab coat and large glasses. She was the woman in the green dress. The woman that he'd spotted from out his window and felt utterly compelled to get closer to. The woman who he came face to face with and realized that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

But now, she was that woman with a mind of her own, with  _real_ thoughts, with a nerdy personality and absolutely no coordination at all. She was  _Marsha,_ and she was lovely.

> _"We don't talk about it, it's something we don't do. Because, once you go without it, nothing else will do."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Meet Me In the Hallway" by Harry Styles.


	11. Tribulation

> _"Darling, can't you see, I'm a broken man with addictive tendencies. And I think I love you. But, I don't ever think I can ever learn how to love just right. So, run away from me, run as far as your dark brown eyes can see. Just as soon as you know that I don't ever think I can ever learn how to love you right. And all the ways that you won't bed are the only ways I live my life."_

Five very long days had past, each one unsuccessful and trying. The arguments got worse, the attempts at training were all classified as failures, and the children were growing nervous as the adults grew frustrated. The problem was clear - Jack was the only one who refused to play his part in this project, and it was holding everyone back. Miss Holloway continuously tried every day to get through to him, but his best to ignore her.

Countless nights spent arguing outside of her bedroom door, endless bickering during training sessions, all she ever tried to do was save Jack from himself, before it was too late. She might have been the only person who saw what the real issue was. She knew the story and she was well aware of Jack's tragic past, she knew that his time at Area 52 had ended in catastrophic tragedy.

Of course it was hard for him to come back unwillingly and under such circumstances, he was basically forced to relive it all. But, she also knew that if she addressed his past and the things that troubled him specifically, he would only freeze up and grow colder and harsh with her. And, if they wanted to get anywhere with this team, they simply couldn't afford that.

But tonight, Marsha had managed to catch Jack with his guard down. And she thought maybe, just  _maybe,_ she might be able to get through to him after all.

After all the children were in bed, Jack found himself back in the large recreational lounge for the kids and him. He'd forgotten his keys and was hoping to retrieve them and go, but upon entering the room, he noticed someone at the back counter making what smelled like a cup of fruity tea. As the person - who turned out to be Miss Holloway - turned around to face him, he almost didn't recognize her.

The darkness of the room made vision difficult, and the single fading light that she had turned on above the counter only illuminated one half of her face, casting a mysterious shadow on the other. Though the fact that she wasn't wearing neither her glasses nor her lab coat and her hair was free from the ponytail that it had been in earlier made her seem like a completely different person, it was her demeanour that really threw him off.

She seemed calm - calmer than he'd ever seen her before - though he would soon come to realize that it was not serenity that graced her appearance rather than mere exhaustion. He knew full well that the fatigue within her was induced merely by his own actions over the course of the past five days. Jack lingered in the middle of the room upon catching her eye and realizing that she clearly had something that she'd like to say to him.

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Marsha, I'm really  _not_ in the mood for an argument." He said, his own voice with a tiresome edge to it.

"Neither am I." She said in a soft voice as she moved closer towards him so that they didn't have to shout from across the room simply to hear each other. "But, Jack..." she continued, and now Jack took an exhausted seat on the couch upon realizing that maybe she  _did,_ in fact, want to fight. Yes, she needed to get her point across, but her previous methods of doing so had proven futile. So, she decided that, for tonight anyways, she'd take a different - somewhat less  _impulsive_ \- approach, "... there are some things that you just  _need_ to hear."

He shook his head, clearly refusing to be party to yet another argument. Marsha surprised him when she didn't raise her voice, but instead took a tentative seat next to him on the sofa with a sigh of her own.

"I know that you didn't ask for any of this," she began, the genuine tone of her voice prompted Jack to glance over at her which proved unfortunate for him because the poor lighting of the room lit up those intriguing eyes of hers in a way that he had never seen before, "and you certainly didn't -" she paused to reconsider her wording, " _don't_ want it. But, you weren't given a choice, you're a part of this now and there's nothing that you can do to change that."

Attempting in vain to force himself to look away from the captivating colour that her eyes were projecting as if that would help him combat her argument, Jack wondered where she was going with this. For the very first time since he'd met her, he found himself hanging on to every word she said, not even wanting to toss out a sarcastic remark and make things worse. He soon realized that the reason behind this was because he had never before heard anyone speak quite so genuinely to him. She was exhausted from trying to persuade him to help the kids, thus lowering her inhibitions, that was clear to him now.

"Those children are going to look up to you whether you like it or not, you're the only one who knows what they're going through." She looked down at her hands as she spoke, but this didn't prevent Jack from seeing the authentic pain on her face, and he now suddenly found himself fighting against the strong urge to tuck that stray lock of hair that had fallen close to her eyes behind her ear. "But," she continued, meeting his eyes once more, "the way I see it, you can either ignore this and let them face all of it on their own, or you can  _embrace_ it."

She felt a small smile form on her fatigued face as she imagined how lovely it would be if only Jack  _finally_ decided to let himself be a part of the team. It would be good for everyone involved. "You could help them through the uncertainty and teach them to become the best that they can be," again, her eyes left his, "just like you were." She added so softly that he almost missed it.

For the first time now only since he'd returned to Area 52, but perhaps in his entire life, Jack Shepherd felt as though he suddenly knew for certain that he had someone in his corner, someone whose belief in him could not be swayed. Trust was something that did not come easily to him, he shouldn't think that he genuinely trusted any more than maybe  _two_ people in his life. But, it was possible that after this short encounter, that number had grown to three.

He didn't know what to say to her, but as she lifted her head slightly and her vision met hers once more, their eyes did all of the talking. They simultaneously blinked in confusion when the bright fluorescent lights of the room suddenly turned on and a small figure appeared in the doorway. Upon seeing Cindy with her eyes still closed in a bunny suit that must have served as pyjamas, Jack glanced uncertainly at Marsha, wondering why she didn't seem as surprised by the sight as he was.

"She sleepwalks." Marsha informed him in such a way that told him perhaps she'd known this from Cindy's very first day here. When she stood from the couch with a small sigh and began to gently lead the sleeping child back to her room, Jack understood that she'd likely done this for her every single night. Sitting in the now empty and somewhat inexplicably  _colder_ room, Jack was forced to allow Marsha's words to resonate with him. He didn't know what it was about her, perhaps her genuineness that he'd initially - and apparently wrongly - deemed as naive or fake. It definitely had managed to tear through nearly every last one of his carefully constructed defences.

How could someone who evokes so much irritation from him also manage to win his trust within a matter of days? And why didn't he say anything to her after she'd spoken such a hard-hitting truth? His second question was the only one that could be answered. Had Cindy not unintentionally interrupted them, he would have said something, he was sure of it. Forcing himself to stand up, grab the keys that he'd come for in the first place off the coffee table, and walk back to his room through the quiet, dark halls of the facility, Jack's mind wandered back to the notion of Marsha helping Cindy with her sleepwalking.

It was no secret to even him that the kids' parents weren't exactly supportive of their powers. And by leaving their children at Area 52, they were given the perfect opportunity to opt out of having to deal with their abilities. But, superhuman or not, they were just kids, they still needed basic parental guidance.

Someone would have to step up and fill those shoes, and that someone was initially supposed to be  _him._ But, it seemed now that Miss Holloway had already stepped into the position that Jack had no interest in filling. And she didn't even appear reluctant to do so in the slightest, even Jack could see the joy that she received simply by being a part of the children's lives. She truly cared for them, she genuinely wanted nothing but the best for them, and she would do whatever it took to guarantee their safety and happiness.

What Jack didn't yet realize, was that  _yes_ that was all true, but most of the time, it wasn't about the children at all. When she argued and fought with him relentlessly, it was all for  _him._ She wanted to put him back together, she wanted him to live the life that he was meant to live, she couldn't  _stand_ to see him so broken and bitter.

But, as Jack finally reached his room, he realized that perhaps the reason that his own team never worked out was because they never  _had_ anyone like her. They never felt the security of someone selflessly putting the wellbeing of the team in their top priorities, they always felt as if it was them against the world, and that was what destroyed them in the end.

But, this new team, with someone like Marsha on their side, their potential was limitless. And Jack finally began to wonder if perhaps he couldn't let himself hold them back any longer.

Unfortunately, he too was persistent. And by the time he'd shut his bedroom door, he'd written himself off as insane. He was positively out of his mind for even  _considering_ listening to Marsha and giving in to her consistent pleas. His lapse in judgement had simply been due to the fact that he was uncontrollably attracted to her, and it was clouding his sanity.

As he turned off the light, he'd deemed everything about that night  _her_ own fault for daring to let her hair down and tempt him with the truth.

 

> _"And I'm trying to cope and burn just right, and I don't ever think I can ever learn how to love you right. I think I'm better on my own, but I get so lost in you. I think I'm better on my own, but I'm so obsessed with you."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Tribulation" by Matt Maeson


	12. It Ain't Me Babe

> _"Go away from my window, leave at your own chosen speed. I'm not the one you want, babe. I'm not the one you need. You say you're looking for someone who's never weak but always strong, to protect you and defend you, whether you are right or wrong. Someone to open each and every door. But, it ain't me, babe. No, it ain't me you're looking for, babe."_

Another day had come and gone, all rather numbly. It wasn't even a  _bad_ day, all things considered. Jack had been on time for training, and he actually managed to put a little effort into it this time around. And yet, nothing felt quite right.

Nonetheless, no one knew exactly why, and certainly not  _how,_ but Jack Shepherd was slowly but surely being modified. And there was only  _one_ person who had seen it coming. Every argument that she had had with him, each late night spent fighting, every endless spouts of nagging, they would all be worth it and she knew that now. She  _knew_ that it would likely drive him to hate her with every piece of him, but that was just the price that she had to pay.

She'd always been so harmfully selfless. The truth of the matter was that any time she saw any ounce of real hatred behind his stormy eyes when he looked at her, she was crushed. To know that he might eventually hate her irrefutably terrified her more than she'd like to admit.

But, if that was only the cost of digging him out of this deep, dark hole that he'd buried himself in throughout the years, she could learn to be okay with that. For the sake of the children. They needed him in order to get through their time at the facility. But, more than that, for his own sake. He'd been miserable for decades, it didn't take any kind of psychologist to see that. It only helped that she had that professional edge. On the outside, he was cold and closed off. He didn't think that he needed help, so he certainly didn't want it. But, far beneath the surface, he was screaming for help. And she was going to get through to him, even if it lead to her own demise.

What she didn't know, was that he didn't think he could ever  _actually_ hate her. Sure, there were some moments when the two of them positively despised each other, but it never lasted long. Because, as much as she'd been in love with the thought of him for as long as she could remember, she also had  _him_ under an equally captivating spell. Though, it was different for him. Her heart had always been open. She was trusting, to a fault. Even after countless terrible experiences, she never learned to protect herself in that capacity. He, on the other hand, had a heart that was caged up expertly.

He shouldn't think that he's ever  _really_ loved a woman in that way. Because, he'd never let himself. Though he was about to learn that when it's real, it's out of his control. However, he could control the fact that he would keep his eyes shut for as long as humanly possible to prevent himself from ever having to face reality. That was, in fact, his specialty.

He couldn't even see it himself, but he was changing. Slowly but surely. And not literally, of course, as people don't really change. But, he was slowly allowing himself to become who he was on the inside, who he used to be before the tragedy became all-consuming. He didn't let his guard down, not for a second . But, at the very least, he allowed himself to become invested in the children's training. That is, when he bothered to show up.

Even so, his presence around the facility didn't become any less of a problem. Thus prompting Miss Holloway with the need to continue to berate him that night, as usual, standing in the hallway outside of her room, where that one fated fluorescent light just refused to quit flickering. It had been a heated confrontation, and it all started off the same way as it always did - Marsha badgering him for refusing to put in any real emotion and leaving the kids to drown in the dark while he tried his very hardest to make her see that he had absolutely no interest in being here at all, so why  _should_ he spend his time doing something that was only going to turn out to be futile.

It was that one word that had set Marsha off on a tangent. " _Futile?"_ She practically yelled in incredulity, narrowing her eyes as if every time he argued with her, she was still surprised. " _What_ about  _any_ of this is  _futile?"_

Jack rolled his raging eyes as her voice jumped an octave, as it tended to do whenever she took her own irritation to the next level. "Come  _on,"_ he continuously tried to talk some sense into her, "what's the  _point_ of all of this?"

Her eyes widened in disbelief, "The  _point?_ The point is to  _train_ the children so that they're not sent out there with no  _idea_ how to use their powers when they need to!"

"Okay, so have  _someone else_ train them to do that! I don't see what the hell you need  _me_ for, I can't help with any of this!"

Marsha tried her hardest to remain collected as she argued with him, but he'd always brought out an impulsive side to her that she'd never known she possessed. "Who  _else_ would we possibly use, Jack?  _You_ went through  _everything_ that those kids are currently being put through, you're  _quite literally_ the only person suitable for the job!"

Jack sighed and crossed his arms as he looked away from her and leaned his back against her door, wondering just how the two of them never seemed to get tired of having this same old argument. "That's bullshit." Marsha rolled her eyes at his vulgar language as she glared at him, "Other than all that, what makes you think that  _I'm_ the one who's going to solve all your problems, here?"

"I'm not  _asking_ you to solve any problems! I'm simply asking you to do the  _bare_ minimum of your job!"

"Listen," he turned to her, gesturing with his hand in an attempt to  _finally_ get through to her, "I  _get_ that you're clearly looking for someone  _valiant_ and  _heroic_ to swoop in here and save you all from whatever it is that you're working towards, but that isn't  _me._ You were hoping that you'd bring me back and I'd take over and do everything you want me to and step up and be the big hero that you always believed that I was. But, I'm telling you right now that your arguments mean  _nothing_ to me." He lied through his teeth.

"So," He continued, "you can stop  _hounding_ me day after day, trying to get me to suddenly change and be exactly who you want me to be. I'm not the guy that you want, here. I"m  _not_ the one you need,  _sweetheart._ I'm not going to just come and  _fix_ everything, I"m not going to know exactly how to get those kids trained. Especially because no one's actually telling me  _shit_ around here!"

Marsha shook her head in irritation, she saw right through his cold-hearted act. "Well, you know what  _I_ think?" Jack bit his tongue, he'd learned that it was better if he didn't interrupt when she took that particular tone with him. " _I_ think that you  _know_ you could make those kids into a great team, but you're still just  _scared_ that it's all going to go to hell just like it did in the past." Now, it was Jack's turn to glare. He was shocked her hear her come at him with that little tidbit from his past. Frankly, he was impressed.

"Well, times have changed." Marsha was downright angry, and Jack could sense that she was milliseconds away from getting the last word and disappearing into her room, slamming the door behind her to mark the indisputable end of their conversation. That was how it always went. "I don't  _care_ if you don't trust a  _soul_ in this place, I don't  _care_ if you would rather be  _anywhere_ else, and I don't  _care_ if you're sick of having these arguments with me! Those kids  _need_ someone and, like it or not,  _you're_ the one that we chose for them."

After saying what she needed to say, a quick silence filled the air as they searched each other's eyes for any lingering arguments that needed to be made and for any sign of weakness that the other could take advantage of. But, Jack had suddenly let his guard down. That tended to happen to him around her before he could even attempt to stop himself. And now, he wasn't glaring at her in hatred, though she didn't know otherwise.

Instead, he was remarking to himself silently yet again just how beautiful she was whenever they got heated like that. Which, of course, would lead him to kick himself and mentally call himself an idiot. She was  _always_ beautiful. Argument or not. There wasn't a doubt in his mind.

But, while his thoughts had wandered, hers remained steady, and they had just decided that it was over. He was still leaning against her door, but he didn't quite realize that. So, when she moved closer to him in hopes that he would take the hint and move away from the door in order to let her into her room for the night, he was confused. She snapped him from his dangerous thoughts when she moved, and he was caught off guard to see her coming towards him.

His mind raced for that split second. He simply couldn't figure out why she was moving closer to him, and a small part of him secretly longed that she was coming to fill the space between the two of them and finally put some of that sexual tension between them to rest. But, the look on her face told him that his wish wouldn't be granted tonight. "What are you doing?" He asked in a different tone than before. He was surprised, he was caught off guard, and he didn't quite know how to respond.

Upon hearing his question, Marsha stopped in her tracks, though she was still much closer to him than she had been before and glanced up at him in confusion of her own. When she spoke, her voice too was different. She was no longer angry, no longer irritated, and no longer desperate. She was flustered, and the light pink that rose to her cheeks proved that. "I'm..." she stuttered a bit, the intensity of his glare put her at a loss for words, "... I'm trying to get into my room." Her voice was low due to their proximity, and it evoked feelings within Jack that he'd rather simply go on denying.

He blinked away his confusion as he suddenly realized that she was not coming closer to him for any reason other than he was in her way. Clearing his throat rather awkwardly as she averted her eyes - she wasn't sure why - before moving past him as he'd stepped out from in front of her door. After that symbolic door had been shut, Jack began the treacherous journey back to his own quarters.

This was the part that he hated. Because, he simply couldn't decipher any of it. If they'd been having such an unpleasant argument, then why did he always feel colder and positively empty once she'd closed that door and disappeared from his sight?

It always went the same way. They'd have the same argument, but somehow, a moment of strange tension would always manage to present itself between the two of them. Tension that had  _nothing_ to do with the argument that they were having. Nothing to do with the kids or the team or training or even the facility itself. Tension that had everything to do with the two of them. And then he was left alone to face the reality of her truthful words as he walked back to his room in solidarity. The same old thoughts would bounce around his head as he did so.

Early on in the walk, he'd still be mad at her. He'd stay strong to his argument. But, eventually, he'd let her words hit him and he'd realize just how  _right_ she always was. Which would lead him to astonish at how devoted not only to those kids, but to  _him_ she was. Because, even he could see that every argument she expressed was in his own interest. She simply wanted the best for him. Because of this, he would eventually get to thinking about just how special she was, though he'd never admit that out loud to anyone. Of course, his walk wouldn't be complete without him dwelling on his own feelings about that damned woman. How could he be so shamelessly attracted to someone who caused him such irritation? Surely, it wasn't sensical.

> _"Go lightly from the ledge, babe. Go lightly on the ground. I'm not the one you want babe, I'll only let you down. You say you're looking for someone who'll promise never to part, someone to close his eyes for you, someone to close his heart. Someone to die for you and more, but it ain't me, babe."_

Today was a new day. The seventh, in fact. It had been one week since Jack set foot back in Area 52.

And, when the allotted couple hours set aside for the physical training with the children rolled around, everyone was rather surprised to see Jack not only arrive on time, but put some real effort into it. And Jack was always surprised to see Marsha sitting there in the training room with her clipboard in her hands, ready to watch, learn, and assess. The reason for his surprise came mostly from the fact that even after an argument as detrimental as the one they'd had the night before, she never let it truly get to her. And she was always prepared to try again the next day as if things were going precisely how she wanted them to.

She sat nearby as Jack taught Summer a thing or two about controlling telekinetic powers and had to continuously jerk herself back to reality as she found herself uncontrollably melting at how Jack was suddenly acting. She knew how dangerous that was. If him simply putting in a little bit of effort was enough to render her starstruck once more, she likely wouldn't be able to handle it when he inevitably let his true heroic abilities shine. Though by then, she was sure that he would have all but forgotten about her.

Jack stood back as Summer began to channel her powers and focus her energy on a nearby plastic chair. He wasn't sure what she was attempting, but he didn't want to interrupt. Instead, he glanced beside himself where Marsha sat, staring intently at some kind of graph on her clipboard, and realized without wanting to that she wasn't wearing her glasses.

And there was something about being able to see those baby blues without thick glass getting in the way that always got to him. Therefore, he made a mental note to be on guard around her today.

Realizing that the task at hand was to train the young teenage girl, Jack forced himself to look away from the quiet woman sitting beside him. "Are you working on attraction or repulsion?" He asked, getting tired of the suspense and wanting an answer. It was important to know what Summer's intention for her powers were, because when the outcome came about, one needed to take that into consideration. Especially if the outcome didn't match the intention.

Before Summer could speak, the chair came flying towards her and knocked her off her feet, answering Jack's question.

Sighing, he spoke in a voice practically dripping with sarcasm. "That would be attraction." He looked around the room aimlessly, suddenly bored as Summer picked herself up off the ground and brushed off her training jumpsuit. Looking back towards Marsha, who was now staring in Summer's direction as opposed to her clipboard. "What about you?" Jack asked causally, and as Marsha turned to look at him once she realized that he was speaking to her, her hair suddenly fell out of the low bun that it had previously been in and now cascaded around her shoulders. He'd merely been asking her what she was working on, but she hadn't been listening very intently if at all, so she wasn't sure what he'd meant by that.

She made a quiet noise of confusion as she stared in his direction, and Jack couldn't help but admire the alluring combination of her loose hair and lack of glasses. "That would also be attraction." He said teasingly, fully expecting it to go straight over her head, which it did. Marsha remained confused, but Summer cast Jack a mocking look as she knew precisely what he'd meant by that.

Jack Shepherd was in deep, and there was no going back now.

> _"Go melt back into the night, babe. Everything inside is made of stone. There's nothing in here moving, and anyway, I'm not alone. No, it ain't me you're looking for, babe."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "It Ain't Me Babe" by Bob Dylan.


	13. I Hate Everything About You

> _"Every sigh and scream we make, all the feelings that I get - but, I still don't miss you, yet. Only when I start to think about it, I hate everything about you. Why do I love? You hate everything about me, why do you love me?"_

The night before had ended with a revelation on Jack's part.  _He_ really  _was_ the problem, and it wasn't a game anymore. If he was looking for someone to blame for anything and everything, he could simply look to himself. But, the evening came and went quickly, and when he woke the next morning, he forced himself right back to square one.

Successfully managing to tuck this revelation safely away into the back of his repressive mind where so much else was stored, Jack hardened his eyes and went out to face the world of Area 52. He may have let his emotions become weakly vulnerable to Marsha's words the night before thanks to a long day, a tiresome argument, and dimmed lighting, but today was a new day.

If Jack was going to fulfill the promise that he'd made to himself and remain as closed off and dejected as ever, he was just going to have to act as if he was completely unchanged, though within him, his preconceived notions were already beginning to falter. Nonetheless, this was far from challenging for him as he'd been doing it his whole life. He simply couldn't let anyone see that they might be getting to him.  _Especially_ not Marsha Holloway.

Meanwhile, Marsha herself was getting very tired of repeatedly trying to finally get through to Jack. The psychiatrist in her suggested that they were close to that desired breakthrough, but it was exhausting to her as a human person. It was the same every time - there were always two potential outcomes when it came to him. He would either refuse to take her words seriously and an unnecessary argument would break out, leaving him ultimately idempotent, but there were also those rare, potentially effective occasions when he would become silent as she spoke, clearly allowing himself to take in every word that she said.

It was during those moments that she would hold on to that possibly naive hope that she might have finally begun to help him through that all consuming darkness that he was living with.

But, no matter how much it wore her down, she knew that she would never stop trying. That was who she was, she constantly did things for the wellbeing of other people no matter what it required on her behalf. She didn't see Jack as  _broken,_ nor as something that needed complete fixing by her or anyone else. Because she knew that people are people, they don't  _change,_ their judgement shifts. She just wanted more than anything to help him understand how to keep the past at pay without completely repressing it.

She wanted him to see that he still had the heroic potential that he'd always possessed. She wanted him to see himself through her eyes.

And when Marsha ran into Jack that morning - and I do mean that literally, you  _know_ how clumsy she is known for being - she could tell simply by his demeanour and the cold, vacant look in his eyes that he was internally ignoring the conversation that they'd had last night. She was afraid that this might happen, but she knew why he was doing it. The closer he got to a progressive change, the more intensely he would be forced to close himself off. Not only that, but the harder that he would push her away, since it was  _her_ who seemed to be working her way through to him.

Jack rolled his eyes following their collision but didn't even both to tease her about her clumsiness, so she decided to resist the urge to make her own comments about his rather impressive ability to suppress his feelings. Marsha merely apologized for running into him around that dreadful corner that always seemed to compromise her equilibrium as the two of them picked up the files that she'd dropped on the floor following their run-in.

Due to her exhaustion, she didn't necessarily want the day to begin quite so quickly, but she inevitably had to speak the words that neither of them wanted to hear. "You're with me today, by the way." She said as they walked in the direction of the training room.

Jack sighed, but didn't argue. If there was one thing that he'd learned since his return to Area 52, it was that it was absolutely futile to attempt to get out of doing something that that particular woman had put into motion. It was a losing fight. Instead, he decided that he'd come about this situation with a slightly different approach as he raised his eyebrows daringly in a blatantly flirtatious manner.

"Oh,  _yeah?"_ He teased in a voice filled with unspoken implications, giving her a suggestive look they continued to walk. "Doing  _what_ exactly?" He finished with a wink to which she responded with a mocking smile.

"Formal physical and psychiatric evaluations of the children." She raised an eyebrow as she deadpanned her words, knowing  _exactly_ how much he would utterly hate what was to come.

" _Well,"_ he began, mostly to himself, "that's one way to kill the mood."

Instead of playing into his characteristic flirting that she was finally beginning to notice, Miss Holloway kept her eyes forward and handed him a few identical forms. Daring to look them over, Jack realized that the two of them were going to have to work together to assess the children and fill the forms out. Wanting to do just about anything  _but_ that, his brain was working double time to attempt to come up with any kind of excuse, but he knew that anything he could possibly say would only be pointless.

A half hour later, Jack and Marsha sat together at a small table in the newly re-glassed viewing platform while the children practised independently below. As Miss Holloway had explained, their job was to observe them and fill out the formal evaluations while taking into account everything they know about the children personally and with regard to their abilities.

And that was what  _Marsha_ currently found herself doing. _Jack_ was sitting dejectedly in his seat across the table from her while his supposed  _partner_ did all the work. He himself was watching the clock with crossed arms.

There were two sections to the evaluation, a physical evaluation of their powers which was supposed to be completed by Jack, and a psychological evaluation to be filled out by Marsha. After Jack had immediately let her take the lead, she suggested that he at least fill out the identification parts of the forms until it became clear that he couldn't even do so because he didn't know most of the kids' last names let alone their dates of birth and family history.

As much as Marsha wanted to use that opportunity to address Jack's lack of commitment and willingness to put any kind of effort into  _anything,_ she also didn't want to begin an argument that she couldn't finish. Nonetheless, she worried that they were headed in that direction anyways as the two of them quickly became snippy with each other.

When she just couldn't bite her tongue any longer about his apathetic behaviour, Miss Holloway sighed sharply which caused him to finally turn his attention to her.

"Something you'd like to say?" He egged her on threateningly.

"Could you at least  _pretend_ to be interested in this?"

Casting her a look of disbelief, Jack argued back. "What would be the point of that?"

She rolled her eyes and set down the pen that she'd been holding before her hand could begin to cramp. "You're going to have to contribute to this eventually."

"You think?" Jack responded sarcastically, causing Marsha's aggravation to boil over.

" _Jack,"_ she snapped irritably, "it's a  _simple_ evaluation."

He paused for a second, shifting in his seat so that he was actually facing her, "Which is why you should have no trouble filling it out yourself." He suggested in a sarcasm-filled voice. He didn't know why she was constantly putting him up to things like this - he couldn't help the team. No matter how hard he could try, he just simply wasn't the man that she and the rest of the world were expecting him to be.

"That's not how it works, and you know it." She said in a quieter voice, thankful that they were not full out arguing yet as she slid the paper that she'd completed around so that it was now in front of him. She was right, it really was a  _simply_ evaluation. Something that someone like her could do in her sleep. Unfortunately, they  _both_ knew that she and Jack were two  _very_ different people, and he would just  _need_ to make a bigger deal out of it than necessary.

The working pair hadn't been sitting in the booth for long, and it took almost no time at all for Miss Holloway to fill out Cindy's psychiatric evaluation. As she moved on to the next form, Jack skimmed the paper that she'd placed before him. Her beautifully constructed script was exactly what he'd imagined her handwriting would look like - without flaw. Glancing up at her with a look of incredulity, he wondered if she could do  _anything_ imperfectly. Well, other than  _walking._ Still, it infuriated him.

Marsha's evaluation was well written and carefully thought out. She'd written an incredibly thorough writeup for such a small amount of time, causing Jack to sigh silently and finally scribble down messily a few casual and insufficient thoughts of his own before sliding the paper away from himself and returning to his thoughtless void.

He watched as Marsha's eyes went from the paper before her to what he had just written on Cindy's now discarded sheet. He watched with amusement as irritation flashed across her face at his shallow evaluation, but to her credit and his everlasting curiosity, she never said anything about it nor even looked over at him.

Perhaps she was giving up. Jack wondered if with all of her attempts to put him back together, he'd managed to break her. For some strange reason that would go undeveloped by Jack's apathetic conscience, this sent a wave of slight panic over him. He had no idea why the notion of Marsha giving up on him had such an effect on his concealed emotions, but he didn't like it one bit. After all, were this the case, then she was only doing  _precisely_ what he'd asked of her since the day that they first met. Unbeknownst to him, this was not the reason behind Marsha's lack of reaction today.

It wasn't until all four forms were completely filled out that the issue was addressed. Miss Holloway looked up at Jack for the first time in nearly an hour with a tired loo in her eyes, "That's  _really_ all you're going to write?" She questioned, giving him one last opportunity to come to his senses on his own but knowing that it was a pipe dream. As she tucked the forms away into a folder, Jack sensed some kind of subtext to her words, but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. It was as if she knew something that he didn't.

"I wrote what I knew." He challenged her, leaning back into his seat carelessly.

"That's because you haven't even taken the time to get to  _know_ the children let alone familiarize yourself with their abilities." She tested, glancing through the glass down towards the team of kids.

" _See,_ you keep saying stuff like that," the suddenly aggravated tone of his voice caused Marsha to look back at him as he leaned closer towards her from across the table with a harsh look in his eyes, "but, I'm as familiar with those kids as I'd like to be." He smirked, for some reason he had a feeling that he would get the better of this argument. But, how wrong he was.

Now, it was Miss Holloway's turn to give him a look of sarcastic disbelief. She could see right through his facade, whether he knew that or not. "You're as familiar with them as you'll  _let_ yourself be." She said, as if he'd had him all figured out.

This aggravated Jack even further, she didn't know  _anything_ about him - or so he liked to believe - and he'd appreciate it if she'd quit insinuating things about him. " _What,_ so we've been hanging around each other for a few days now and you figure you know  _everything_ about me?" He narrowed his eyes in sarcasm.

"Of  _course_ not," Marsha responded with heavy sarcasm of her own, "you'd  _never_ let anyone get  _that_ close to you." Her comment earned her a severe look, but she continued before he could argue. "You know, maybe if you'd just  _let_ yourself actually put some investment into the team that you're supposedly  _leading,_ you wouldn't be so untrusting of  _every_ single person that you encounter."

It was the same argument between the two of them that they'd always had. But, with every passing confrontation, the words grew more personal as they became comfortable with arguing. Jack was silent for a moment, before speaking with even more sarcasm than before. "Do you charge by the  _hour_ for this?" And with the attack on her profession, Jack stood from his chair and began to walk towards the door, clearly done with her antagonisms.

Behind him, Marsha simply rolled her eyes and took the folder into her hands before rising calmly and catching his attention before he could leave the room. "Just so you know," she began in a tone that could easily be defined as secretly devious So much so that it stopped him in the doorframe to turn around to face her once more, "you and I get psychiatric evaluations, too."

" _And?"_ Jack asked impatiently. He had figured as much, being the children's trainers, they too would have to be evaluated.

" _And,"_ she mocked his tone while walking towards him, " _I_ get to fill out  _yours."_ Marsha finished with a satisfied smile on her face as she slipped right past him and out the door.

> _"I hate, you hate, I hate, you love me. I hate everything about you, why do I love you?"_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace.


	14. Sweeter Than Fiction

> _"There you'll stand, ten feet tall. I will say, 'I knew it all along.' Just a shot in the dark, all you've got are your shattered hopes. They never saw it coming, you hit the ground running, and now you're onto something. What a sight when the lights came on, proved me right when you proved them wrong."_

Jack sat alone in the lounge that evening. The kids were all around the facility together here and there and he hadn't even  _seen_ Marsha since they'd attempted to work together earlier that day. Left alone with his thoughts, Jack's mind forced him to dwell on things that he had no interest in revisiting. Mainly, the conversation that he'd had with Marsha in that very room nearly twenty-four hours ago.

He wondered how every single word that she'd said could be so very accurate, he wondered how she could be so convincing, he wondered why she kept trying to  _fix_ him in the first place, he wondered how she hadn't collapsed with exhaustion due to his stubbornness, he questioned it all. What he'd learned, was that she was surprisingly resilient, and very much just as stubborn as he himself was, which lead to some very tiresome arguments. Ultimately, Miss Marsha Holloway was a source of absolute wonder to him. He had never encountered anyone quite like her, he knew that for certain, but he wondered how that could be.

Jack would always have his doubts about anyone who pledged allegiance to Area 52, especially those who - like her - seemed to follow behind the facility and the government blindly. Nonetheless, even Jack could see - somewhere deep within him - that she was genuine. Marsha Holloway was a mere pawn of a woman somehow managing to be pushed and prodded in whichever direction the American military needed her. It was sad, really. But again, that was something else that Jack simply couldn't do anything about. Now,  _Captain Zoom?_ Now, he'd be all  _over_ that. He'd swoop in and free her from the facility's clutches, saving the damsel in distress. Jack Shepherd on the other hand, fought against her.

And yet, even when the two of them argued bitterly, Marsha had only ever expressed her concerns for Jack's ultimate wellbeing. For the very first time since he'd been forcefully shoved back into Area 52, Jack now realized without a doubt in my mind that she only argued because she  _cared._ He supposed that this came as such a shock was because he was rather unfamiliar with the concept of someone genuinely wanting the best for him, even if it meant putting in as much effort as she currently was. He took her concern and used it against her, choosing to become defensive towards her.

What had she said to him last night? " _I know you didn't ask for any of this,"_ that was the truth, " _and you certainly don't want it."_ She was right, of course, anyone could see that. Ever since that trauma that Jack considered to mark the end of his real life, he had a seemingly solid plan for how he would live out the rest of his bitter, empty days. He'd tried every dependent under the sun, and his tendencies were addictive at best, but nothing had truly stuck for him. Nothing could numb the pain that his losses would forever cause him. He had friends, he was a rather personable guy, he'd  _always_ have friends. And of course he had a family, his mother and sister and nieces and nephews and occasional cousin.

But, he promised never to trust again. He promised never to let himself care deeply enough about one person to have his world torn about when they were inevitably taken from him. Or worse, when they betrayed him like so many before. So, those were his rules - no trust, no love, no passion, no optimism, all bitter apathy. What did he do, then? He used to drink, he used to smoke, he used to channel all his energy into something satisfactory like working out, and all the while he's become quite the philandering shadow of the night as he takes home tall women with short blonde hair and brown eyes and tells them everything that they need to hear in order to get undressed. It's clear that he's pretending that each and every one of them is the woman that he lost, he doesn't mean a word of it, but he gets what he wants.

While we're on the topic of compulsive tendencies, Marsha Holloway was more addictive than Jack could ever dream of being. Because, while he merely got hooked on substances and shitty outlooks, she became addicted to  _people._ She was in search of the family that she never had, so when she found someone that said all the right things, she held on for dear life even when their facade began to crack and shatter. She'd been in countless terrible relationships merely because she's dead set on finding her perfect romance, giving everyone a million undeserving chances, and refusing to see anything but the best in anyone she's ever met.

Until Jack Shepherd came into her life, of course. Because, while she sees all the good in him that no one else does - especially not the man himself - she  _also_ sees the bad and she calls him out for his deficiencies night after night.  _Tonight,_ Jack was about to learn, she'd given in to a common addiction throughout humanity and was currently three sheets to the wind with a few friends in the scientist's lounge. But, that's a story for later, because Jack was about to set out on a mission of his own.

He was pissed off tonight, worse than usual. Which was interesting because whenever he ended his day in a foul mood, it was usually because Marsha had berated him to no avail out in the hallway. Today, he hadn't seen her since that morning. He'd known the woman for merely a week now, he knew nothing about her, and yet he could already  _feel_ that she'd taken years off his life. Nonetheless, what  _pissed_ him off more than anything tonight, was the fact that she was interrupting his comfortable routine that he'd developed over the course of the past twenty-one years. He'd become so used to the numbness, so used to being at his worst, until a goddamn green dress showed up and turned everything he'd ever known upside down. That's why he was mad.

And  _no,_ he wouldn't  _"embrace it,"_ as she'd so naively suggested he do last night, he was far too terrified of having something to lose for that kind of reckless abandon. But, the reality of the situation was that he might  _already_ have something to lose. Because, all his efforts had been put towards keeping his distance from the children. After all, if he was set out to prevent reliving his past situation, it was a  _team_ that he didn't want to lose. In hindsight, that behaviour was his downfall, because he'd been so busy refusing to get to know the  _children,_ that he'd failed to notice a small brunette woman in an oversized lab coat with pretty blue eyes working her way under his thick skin.

He had no  _idea_ that it would be her who needed to be shielded from his concerns, because he  _hated_ her, did he not? Unfortunately, Jack was learning that even  _he_ couldn't fight the inevitable. But he  _could_ ignore it until it got the better of him, and he could do so by distancing himself from her and growing even  _colder_ than he already was to her. It was a foul proof plan, was it not?

But, there were times when Jack Shepherd could be so very childlike. Especially when it came to his own curiosity.

Just when he'd decided to  _hate_ her with every part of him even if it was all a lie, he'd also remembered what she'd told him earlier that day. If her previous words had been true, it meant that there was a completed psychiatric evaluation of  _himself_ handwritten by  _her_ sitting in a locked filing cabinet somewhere out there. And the minute that he realized that, he  _had_ to see it.

Within five minutes, Jack was in Dr. Grant's private office, where he broke into his filing cabinet, swiped the file containing the team's evaluations - knowing that both his  _and_ Marsha's would also be in there - and found a secluded spot to do some light reading. In his hands were six files, two of which he was suddenly  _dying_ to read, four of which he'd helped fill out and really didn't give a shit about.

Now, he was really just there for  _his,_ but he'd failed to consider the fact that he would be tempted to read Marsha's own evaluation. And he  _wasn't_ going to read it, he genuinely wasn't. But, when it came to certain things - and apparently  _she_ had become one of those things - he simply couldn't help himself.

> ** Psychological Evaluation **
> 
> **Date: April 14, 2006**
> 
> ** Evaluated **
> 
> **Name: Marsha Catherine Holloway**
> 
> **Date of Birth: September 29, 1969**
> 
> **Psychiatric Evaluator: Dr. Adam Stevenson**
> 
> ** Family History **
> 
> **Mother: Catherine Holloway (deceased, 1985)**
> 
> **Father: Simon Holloway (deceased, 1985)**
> 
> **Spouse: N/A**
> 
> **Children: N/A**

As Jack read through her personal information, he knew then and there that he should stop. Truly, he found it strange that he was feeling so guilty about it, he wasn't supposed to care about things like this. Nonetheless, he found himself shocked yet again to realize that what Dr. Grant had said that one day had been true - she  _had_ lost both of her parents at a young age. And here he'd had her pegged for a perfect childhood. Knowing he shouldn't, Jack read on.

> ** Evaluation **
> 
> **Despite the extensively traumatic events that she has experiences as well as the abuse that she was subjected to in her younger years, Marsha Holloway certainly seems to serve as the miracle case that psychiatrists everywhere are constantly searching for. To this day, thanks not only to the help that she received from others but also the help that she continuously provides herself with through her own expert psychological knowledge, she remains constantly in contact with her emotions and does not dwell on the past. Though her mental state was clearly hazardous from September 1985 to July 1987 and the incidents in September 2001, October 2003, and November 2004 left her emotionally traumatized, it remains perfectly balanced today. Nonetheless, during these episodes of poor mental stability, she would always revert to her optimistic ways, and continuously see the world from a positive perspective.**
> 
> **She constantly tries her absolute hardest to always see the best in people, almost to a fault - clearly, given her history. But, I see this as a testament to her undeniable strength. All things considered, it is my professional opinion that she does a miraculous job of keeping the past at bay while simultaneously avoiding harmful repression or suppression. She understands that the things that she has experienced are just as much a part of her life that she lives today, and she strives to learn from these hardships and address them appropriately while refusing to let them completely shape her world.**
> 
> **The absolute expertise that she displays for psychology and psychiatry is well beyond even my own knowledge, and she understands it on what appears to be an emotional level. She is a complete and utter asset to Area 52 and I strongly suggest that she continue to work with the new Zenith Team as she will clearly be able to provide them with the proficiency that no one else can. My advice would be to have her continue working alongside Mr. Jack Shepherd - her expertise will be needed in order to familiarize him with his past, present, and future. What's more, is that with everything that she knows about both the psychology and physiology of metaphysical abilities, I would say that there is a strong chance of him regaining his abilities.**
> 
> **Marsha Holloway is completely mentally sound and without a doubt one of the most extraordinary cases I've ever had the pleasure of working alongside.**
> 
> **Evaluator Signature:**
> 
> _ **Dr. Adam Stevenson** _

And just like that, Jack Shepherd was hooked.

Stevenson's evaluation was thorough, but left out the details that he  _desperately_ wanted to know. Even if the thought of them left him feeling utterly sick, he knew that he wouldn't sleep properly until he knew what  _exactly_ had happened to her in the past. He'd assumed that  _he_ was the one with the tragic past, but based on what he'd just read, he now wondered if Marsha's file might even be bigger than his own. As his mind was now bombarded with unanswerable questions, that overwhelming sense of guilt washed over him yet again.

He realized that he had just helped himself to something that she wouldn't have wanted him to see. However, he had no idea that he would find  _anything_ like what he did in her psychiatric evaluation. Obsessive tendencies, yes. Hopelessly reckless optimism, sure. Not  _that._ His only intentions that evening had been reading his own evaluation to have whatever disapproving words that Marsha had used to describe him aid in his dislike for her. Instead, he'd found a piece of forbidden information that he tried to put from his mind, but knew that he'd probably never be able to let it go.

In an attempt to clear his thoughts, Jack decided that it was finally time to do what he'd come for and find out just what  _she_ had to say about  _his_ mental state. Picking up his own file, Jack sighed upon realizing that it was a few pages long. Ultimately, his curiosity won out yet again over his short attention span.

> **Psychological Evaluation**
> 
> **Date: April 14, 2006**
> 
> **Evaluated**
> 
> **Name: Jack Shepherd**
> 
> **Date of Birth: August 14, 1966**
> 
> **Psychological Evaluator: Miss Marsha Holloway**
> 
> **Family History**
> 
> **Mother: Rosalina Shepherd**
> 
> **Father: Jonathan Shepherd (deceased, 1998)**
> 
> **Spouse: N/A**
> 
> **Children: N/A**
> 
> **Evaluation**
> 
> **As of right now, Jack Shepherd's psychological state is clearly not the best that it could be.**

_This should be fun,_ Jack thought to himself upon reading the opening sentence of Marsha's report.

> **This is completely fair, as he has suffered great tragedy that is incomprehensible for people who have never experienced calamity of similar magnitude. After the Gamma-13 incident where Mr. Shepherd lost not only his brother and his girlfriend, but his entire team, the collateral damage was not properly addressed by neither him nor the program. He was in a state of shock due to what had happened for quite some time and in what I assume was a state of heavy disbelief. Because of the strange and unnatural way that the events had occurred, he never got to properly experience the stages of grief, so he immediately dove straight into anger-masked guilt.**
> 
> **On the surface, Jack was more angry than he ever thought he could be. He searched for the rest of his life for someone or something to blame for what had happened to him and to his team. They were killed at the hand of his brother, who was presumed dead, but because Jack could never really know for sure, he blamed the facility and the people inside of it, every single one of them. And rightfully so, the idea to inflict radiation onto the original Zenith Team in order to increase their powers was likely a merely consumption-based decision that cost him the life of his friends.**
> 
> **But, deeper down, Mr. Shepherd has been blaming himself - and that is where the heavy guilt that he carries around comes into play. He blames himself for everything he can thing of, for not fighting the idea of the radiation, for not getting himself and his team out of Area 52 before everything went wrong, for not being able to fight his brother when he began to kill his teammates, and so on.**
> 
> **The guilt will forever be present for him, because he was the Captain of the team - he was supposed to make sure that, no matter what happened, they all came out of it alive in the end. And, in his mind, he had failed. While it is completely unfair to blame Mr. Shepherd for anything that happened on July 23, 1987, it is going to take thorough work in order to convince him of this face, as it goes against everything that he has even thought for the past two decades. Throughout the years, he pushed the guilt and anger down inside of him until they were virtually forgotten about, until the day that everything was forced to catch up with him. Though he thought that he was successfully ignoring his past, he still lived his life around it in a quite severe way.**
> 
> **Because he didn't want to admit to himself that the past was behind him, Mr. Shepherd forced his life to revolved around it while never actually confronting what had happened and his feelings surrounding the tragedy. While, of course, he's never told me anything at all about his life nor his past, I believe that it is safe to assume that, at least for the first few years following the trauma, he suffered from an inevitable case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that was likely - or perhaps, still is - accompanied by flashbacks and intrusive memories due to the suppression that has resulted in a complete ignorance of the past events that have shaped who he is today.**
> 
> **Jack Shepherd lived in a seriously unhealthy state of denial, that he will one day have to come to terms with before any progress can be made. Upon his return to Area 52, I have only been able to assess the things that he wants me to see, the way that he interacts with other, and the slight things that I am sometimes able to pick up on. It is painfully clear that Mr. Shepherd refuses to trust anybody at the facility (or perhaps, in general) in even the slightest of ways, but until he can learn to do so, there is only so much that I or anyone else can receive from him. He has spent the last twenty-one years dedicated to building rock-solid walls around every part of his life so as not to expose himself to the same kind of hurt that he once experienced, thus making him a facetiously bitter man, presently.**
> 
> **Even with all things considered, I can still see the valiant hero that he once was and still could be if he would only let himself. It is nothing if not clear to me that he still possesses the courage, selflessness, humility, and the kindness that he did when he was known as " _Captain Zoom,'_ as these are things that one does not simply loose. But, he has taken to masking those traits with bitterness, anger, narcissism, and sarcasm. I believe that when the time truly calls for it, he will one day let those qualities surface and regain the status that he once held.**
> 
> **Based on my observations, I believe that the reason he refuses to train the new Zenith Team properly and put any true effort into their success is because he does not wish to form strong bonds or relationships with them. He has witnessed firsthand just how easily the people that one cares for can be taken from them in his line of work, and he thinks that he would be nothing but foolish to open himself up to the possibility of caring about someone only to have them disappear from his life. His utter lack of responsibility and interest in the new team as well as his disregard for consequences of his careless actions has made that clear.**
> 
> **Another note that I have is that Mr. Shepherd has a clear aversion to being titled " _Captain Zoom,"_ which at first, I found strange, since the two are ultimately the same person. But, I understand now that in his mind, he is no longer capable of being a hero to be looked up to. He does not want the responsibility of having people consider him a role model or expecting things from him that he is unable to accomplish. While " _Captain Zoom"_ is Jack Shepherd, Jack Shepherd is not entirely " _Captain Zoom."_ The superhero is a glorified comic book character composed of all of Mr. Shepherd's best, most admirable qualities, but leaves out the rest of what makes up the man. Jack himself is much more than that, he has flaws and is not a perfect man. That doesn't mean that he isn't a hero.**
> 
> **As noted before, Mr. Shepherd has devoted his life to building barriers and defences around his mind, heart, past, and emotions. But, I believe that there walls might just be broken if the right person tries hard enough. There is a tremendous amount of good inside of him, even if no one else - specifically himself - finds that easily observable. He is still fully capable of everything that he once was, he simply now has more baggage alone with it. He is no longer the teenage superhero that was portrayed in the medias, he has faced the real world and grown into an adult - the circumstances have changed indefinitely.**
> 
> **In my professional opinion, with time, Mr. Shepherd will successfully open himself up to the idea of providing support and education to the team of children. It is going to take a lot of time and work in order for him to ever learn to trust anyone completely again, but I hardly believe it to be impossible.**
> 
> **Evaluator Signature:**
> 
> _**Marsha Holloway** _

Jack was rather shell-shocked.

The woman who he assumed merely  _tolerated_ him may as well have written an entire  _essay_ on him. Not only that, but it was more accurate than it could have been had he composed it himself. He had underestimated her - not only her acute ability to observe, but her sincerity. He had to read it twice.

Right off the bat, she holds back nothing. She writes that she understands Jack's anger towards the facility and all that they stand for - she herself validates his feelings. Not only does she justify it, but she seems to feel it as well. The words that she had written could have served as a rebellion on paper and suddenly, he feared for her safety. Clearly, Jack had been wrong in thinking that he couldn't trust  _any_ employee of Area 52 as they would just follow orders blindly. Simply hearing that she agrees that the program had made a mistake with the radiation all those years ago was enough for Jack to feel a relief that he thought he'd never feel.

And what did she do next? She called him out, just as she would do to his face in person. She stated that Jack had been blaming himself all these years - and she was nothing but correct. This was something that he couldn't even admit to himself and yet she managed to make him understand that this was exactly what he was doing. She then begun to make assumptions about how the incident and the associated guilt were affecting him. He'd never told her anything of the sort, she'd inferred it all, and again, she was spot on. How was it that someone whom he had just  _met_ somehow knew him better than he even knew himself? She must be good at her job.

But, the most miraculous thing of all to him, was the way that she actually understood his resentment towards the label of " _Captain Zoom."_ It was as if she had managed to put his thoughts into words. She realizes that  _Zoom_ is only the character, made up of Jack Shepherd's most noble traits - something that he assumed she of all people could never comprehend. Jack is the  _real_ person, and he is composed of much more than simply heroic qualities. If you want one, you get the other.

Everyone always assumes that they know him based on the stories that they've heard and the comics that they used to read. It takes a lot to truly know Jack Shepherd and even more to accept the fact that he really is  _not "Captain Zoom,"_ as he goes about his every day life. When the time called for it, of course, he could channel up those qualities and become purely heroic, but that took dire circumstances.  _She_ understood that. And for the first time, Jack realized that his one and only goal of not allowing himself to gain anything to lose would  _never_ be accomplished. He already had something to lose - her unconditional support.

She trusted him, that much was clear. It took reading the report to realize that he had been wrong about her. She did  _not_ follow blindly behind Area 52, she followed blindly behind  _him._ And that was dangerous for the both of them, she knew that. And yet, she still decided to give him  _all_ of her faith and trust. He hadn't experienced this particular phenomenon from anyone since his original team was still living.

And suddenly, something inside of him had shifted. All of the arguments that they'd had, all of the times that she'd tried to convince him to commit himself to the team, all of the times she'd tried to tell him that he wasn't as bad as he made himself out to seem, the night before in the lounge when he realized that she was someone he could trust, and now the file that he'd just read. It was overwhelming and quite frankly terrifying. And yet, it was not unpleasant. It was all strangely reassuring.

She was  _right,_ and she'd been right all along. He had no idea why it had taken him this long to realize it.

But, as those thoughts sat with him and while he dwelled in silence, his notions became severely misguided - as they tended to. Suddenly, he was fuming. How  _dare_ she assume that she knows  _anything_ at all about him? What gives  _Marsha Holloway_ the right to suggest anything at all to him. All at once, he'd shoved the files back into the cabinet without even covering his traces and set out to find her. It was time that she received a piece of his mind.

> _"I'll be one of the many saying, "look at you now, you made us proud.' And when they call your name and they put your picture in a frame, you know that I'll be there time and again, because I loved you when you hit the ground."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Sweeter Than Fiction" by Taylor Swift.


	15. All I Want

>  " _All I want is nothing more than to hear you knocking at my door. Because, if I could see your face once more, I could die as a happy man, I'm sure. But, if you loved me, why did you leave me? All I want is, all I need is to find somebody. I'll find somebody."_

Jack didn't know where or when or even  _how,_ but Marsha Holloway was drunk.

Not only was she inebriated, she was  _hammered._ He spotted her form across an empty hallway, the same one just outside of her room that they'd spent the last seven nights arguing in. Initially, he was darkly pleased to see her, as he'd been out looking for a fight. After the words that he'd read - the words that  _she'd_ written about him as if she knew the first thing about his life - he had been ready to let her have it. He was prepared for the fight that would end it all, the fight that would drive a wedge between the two of them and their intricate affiliation once and for all. And then, he'd officially be safe from her kind eyes and gentle soul.

Now, he saw that the woman in question was being watched by a man and a woman that Jack vaguely recognized from around the facility, and he raised an eyebrow, wondering just what the hell was going on before he could put two and two together. "What's going on?" He asked casually, upon seeing Marsha's girl friend approach him with an amused look of irritation on her face.

"Are you interested in a job for tonight?" Denise was her name, Jack recalled, as she spoke to him with an arched eyebrow and a daring smile on her face.

"Not particularly." Jack responded, still on edge as he was fuming with unchecked anger towards the woman that he clearly  _couldn't_ argue with, now.

"Too bad." Denise said, "She's all yours."

Jack wasn't even sure what was happening before Marsha Holloway was practically shoved into his arms. She stumbled into him after the man that had previously had his arm around her pushed her off in Jack's direction. "Why is this  _my_ problem, all of a sudden?" He asked helplessly as he felt her curl into him, weak in the knees. He barely knew her, he'd been working alongside her for a number of days that he could count on his fingers. They weren't even  _friends,_ he was  _not_ the person for this job.

"Right place at the right time?" The man said with a shrug, "Besides, I've had my fun with her for the night." She added, making it quite clear just  _what_ they'd gotten up to earlier, evoking a grimace from Jack's face. "She's  _far_ too complicated for me, man."

Jack gestured in complaint with one hand while the other remained on Marsha's back to keep her upright, "She's not  _complicated,_ just deal with her for the rest of the night." He insisted, only because he knew that it would be in vain. There was no way in hell that he'd leave Marsha with this man alone for another second. But, he  _did_ have a reputation to uphold. And she was drunk, she wasn't deaf.

" _Oh,"_ the man said with a raise of his comical eyebrows, "that's where you're wrong. She's got more baggage than an airline company. I'm not cut out for that, I'm going to bed." Before Jack could even attempt to object, the shifty man walked out of his sight.

" _Alright,"_ Jack said, rather irritated as Marsha wriggled from his grasp to look him boldly in the eyes. How she managed to remain steady on the three inch heels beneath her feet was a mystery. Perhaps she was more sober than he'd originally believed, " _this_ is new."

Marsha giggled slightly as she peered up at him rather deviously. "For  _you,_ maybe." Jack raised an understanding eyebrow upon hearing her suggestion. He supposed that she was right, hell, he knew  _nothing_ about her.

Jack gave her a rather confused look before turning back to Denise, someone who he knew only from afar. "What am I supposed to do with her?" He questioned helplessly, this was  _not_ how he'd imagined he'd be dealing with her this evening.

Denise rolled her eyes and began to walk away from the disastrous scene, knowing that she was leaving her friend in the hands of a  _hero,_ it didn't get any safer than that. "She's  _drunk,_ Mr. Shepherd." She deadpanned, realizing just how clueless that man was. What Marsha saw in him she'd never understand. "She's not a child. Walk away from her now and she'll be just find, I just don't think it'd be very interesting." Jack raised a questioning eyebrow, persuading the woman to elaborate. "It's her truth serum." She shrugged, making it clear just what she was suggesting.

Jack scoffed at the nonchalant woman who was now out of his sight before glancing back down at Marsha who still found herself practically being held up in his strong arms. Jack had met her  _seven_ days ago, they were far from  _close._ Now, clearly they were, in proximity anyways. Come to think of it, this was as close to her as he'd even been for such a prolonged period of time, and it wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it. He truly knew nothing about her, other than the bare minimums. He knew her personality, he knew who she was around him, and he knew who she was  _sober._ He had no idea how this night might play out.

" _Yeah,"_ Jack muttered to himself, "she's not a child but here she is, unable to even  _stand."_ He rolled his eyes as he shifted his weight to set Marsha on her feet.

"You don't think so?" She stood straight though her arms were still clinging to his, giving him a challenging look. "Maybe I just liked the idea of being in your  _arms."_ She spoke teasingly, that was clear by the overdramatic roll of her eyes, but it was still something that she'd  _never_ soberly admit to.

Jack eyebrows shot up in shock. Maybe Denise had been right, perhaps it  _would_ be an interesting night for him where she was concerned. "You're going to regret saying  _that,_ tomorrow." He teased, and Marsha sighed while beginning to walk away down the empty hallway.

"You're going the wrong way." Jack called after her nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pockets but remaining unmoving. He'd been referring to the fact that her room was in the  _opposite_ direction, but whether or not knew knew that was never revealed.

"And how would _you_ know where I'm going?" She responded, continuing to walk away from him.

Jack stood in frustrated silence for a moment before giving in with a sigh and slowly catching up to his drunken coworker. He didn't like to refer to anyone at the facility as a coworker as it meant that  _yes,_ he truly  _did_ work there. But, he really didn't have a better word for his relationship with her quite yet.

Seconds later, Marsha turned and opened the door to the lounge, leading Jack to cross his arms with another heavy sigh and catch the door behind her, following her inside the room. 'Why don't you just go to bed?" He suggested impatiently, suddenly feeling as if he was responsible for her and couldn't call it a night himself until he knew she was safe, sober, and where she needed to be.

Marsha turned around with a bit of alarm in her eyes, as if she hadn't realized that he was still there with her. "I need water." She gestured vaguely behind herself at the little kitchen setup where she would find a glass of water in the near-empty fridge. But, instead of doing so, she remained standing in the middle of the dimly-lit room, her eyes fixated on Jack with a specific tension behind them that he recognized but could not label.

Shoving his hands back into his pockets, Jack began to slowly make his way towards where she stood uneasily, " _So_..." his voice was low and filled with confusion, accusation, and a hint of knowing amusement, "...why aren't you moving, then?"

" _Because,"_ Marsha said with a wavering uncertainty to her voice, "because, I also need to say some things." She took in a deep breath, feeling rather vulnerable now that Jack stood directly in front of her with a challenging look in his eyes.

"Is that so?" He teased, though he had the strangest feeling that they were standing in the calm before the storm. He got this fame feeling right before they were about to dive headfirst into one of their big, disastrous arguments. That was what he knew best about her. He hardly had a solid idea of who she really was, but he knew  _precisely_ how she argued.

Marsha steeled herself, though she now held an uncertain look in her eyes. " _Yes."_ Though she was drunk enough to make the words she was about the say unpreventable, she knew full well that she was sobering up, and that she wasn't  _near_ drunk enough that she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. And, she had a feeling that that particular fact would prove to be rather unfortunate for her. "And you're not going to like them." Her voice was wavering, but she was clearly attempting to come off as confident.

" _No?"_ Jack stood up straighter as he peered down at her in scrutiny, "Go ahead, then. Let's have it." His words were daring now, and the playfully teasing quality about them had vanished completely.

But, Marsha had had her fair share of liquid confidence earlier that night, and she knew that there was no backing down now. She took in a deep breath, held her chin up so that she could meet his stony gaze, and stared him down as she spoke her truth. "I don't  _like_ you." She finished by crossing her arms warily.

Jack nearly rolled his eyes,  _that_ was her big declaration? "Devastating." He said sarcastically, looking away from her momentarily before deciding that there was more to be said and staring her in the eyes once more. "And a boldfaced lie."

He might have been right, but so was she. They were both people who were relatively hard to get through to, and it was beginning to show. Marsha lowered her eyebrows in irritation, scoffing before she began to argue. "You think?" She dared him, narrowing her eyes as she did whenever she was about to prove him wrong.

"Oh, I  _know."_ As Jack spoke, Marsha picked up on his inflated ego and wanted nothing more than to  _step_ on it. "I  _know_ I'm your  _hero,_ there's no need to act any other way,  _sweetheart."_

Now, Marsha's blood was boiling. She'd had enough of Jack Shepherd's self-righteous stance in  _her_ workplace, she was ready to put him in his place. She shook her head with a facetious smirk on her face, "You're right, I liked who I  _thought_ you were." She spoke harshly, but a spark remained in her eyes, "But, I  _promise_ you, I've had  _enough_ of  _Jack Shepherd's_ bitter routines to last me a  _lifetime."_ She walked away as she finished, heading towards the fridge at the back of the room.

Jack was about to teasingly argue that she was lying through her teeth, but there was no deceit whatsoever behind her voice. And that's when it hit him. He'd been going around telling everyone that he was nothing like Captain Zoom, and he'd done a fair job of proving that. But, he'd also been making on Marsha's affections so deeply that he'd taken her for granted.

he knew she couldn't stand him based on the amount of nights that they'd spent fighting out there in the hallway, but he had a feeling that she might always look at him with stars in her eyes. He  _was_ her hero, after all. But, he now suddenly understood.  _He_ was not her hero, Captain Zoom was her hero. And he felt foolish having it just hit him now as he'd been saying those very words straight to her face night after night. It was only  _now_ that he worried they might actually be true. He'd been going on and on about how he never signed up for being anyone's  _role model,_ but maybe, deep down, he didn't mind being her hero.

Jack followed her into the fluorescently blue lights of the small kitchen and leaned up against the counter behind her. "How many times do I have to tell you," he began sourly, causing Marsha to turn around and face him once more, 'I don't  _care_ what you think of me."

Marsha eyed him meticulously and couldn't find much truth behind his eyes. But, while she would usually let his deceit go unchecked, she decided that it was finally time he be called out on it. "Now," she found herself unwillingly softening her voice and taking a step closer to him, " _you're_ the one lying."

Jack was taken aback by her statement, this wasn't how she usually approached their arguments. She'd always been guided by her emotions, which is precisely whys he fought against him so hard. But, even so, she'd always refrain from speaking the words that might cause unnecessary tension between the two of them. As did he, it was an unacknowledged agreement between the two of them. Until now, apparently.

he shook his head bitterly, she was  _right,_ but he'd be damned if he let her believe that. "Why would I lie about that?" He spoke harshly, "I don't know what you  _want_ from me, here."

Marsha's eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock as she took a heated step away from him, "What I  _want?"_ She breathed in disbelief, "I've only been telling you  _every_ day since we  _met_ what I  _want_ from you!" In truth, she'd only been telling him what she wanted from him in terms of his work and the team, there was much more to it than that.

"is that what it's always going to come down to?" Jack raised his voice to match her tone, "The fact that I'm not training the team hard enough?" He almost regretted those words. But, he truly did wonder if their entire relationship would always be built around those children.

"You don't train them at  _all!"_

"Why do you care so much about those  _goddamn_ kids?" Jack shook his head as he spoke harshly.

"Why  _don't_ you?" There was a genuine pain in her voice that registered on her face, Jack saw it in her upturned eyebrows and desperate eyes. And, it nearly brought him to his knees. Luckily, he was stronger than that.

Jack paused for a beat before responding, the truth of the matter was that he really did hate seeing what his apathy did to that woman. "Because, I never  _asked_ for any of this.'

Marsha stared at hi in incredulity before finally speaking. "You're going to come to your senses about this whole thing, eventually." She said confidently, crossing her arms. "You might as well do it sooner rather than later." Suddenly, she felt very sober.  _Too_ sober.

Jack was quiet for a moment, but began to regard her in a very different fashion. He looked at her with a bit of pity, like she was an absolutely hopeless case. When he finally spoke, he did so in a low voice that send shivers down her spine. "I'm going to break you." He stated darkly, and Marsha's eyes shot up to him immediately. "You're full of this  _unrealistic_ hope and optimism, you  _really_ just believe that everyone out there is always going to do the right thing. The  _selfless_ thing."

He shook his head slowly as he spoke harshly to her, his eyes going dark. "I'm going to end up taking all of that away from you, if you're not careful. We're going to have this same old fight until one of us breaks, that's the idea, right? But, it's not going to be me. You're not the first person who's tried,  _sweetheart."_ He finished with a sneer, "When all this is over, I'm just going to leave you drained and cynical. I am  _going_ to break you."

Marsha allowed his words to sit with her for a beat, all the while never breaking their heavily fragile eye contact. To both of their surprises, she was not giving in. She did not allow tears to well up in her innocent eyes as she caved and ran from his sharp words. Even if every single one of them possibly rang true, even if that  _was_ the most likely outcome, there was more to it than that.

She wasn't simply some breakable, hopelessly optimistic person. She couldn't be tainted by his darkness, she already had plenty of her own. Besides, she'd seen far worse cases than Jack Shepherd. Instead of backing away and removing herself from the hostile situation, Marsha hardened her own eyes. "You can't break what's already broken." She stated, in a voice so bitter that Jack truly didn't recognize it as hers. "You think you're going to be the one to break me, then you're sadly mistaken. There are others out there who've beaten you to the punch."

She was far too sober to be having this conversation. Yes, the two of them argued all the time, and there were moments when it got personal, but never like this. Due to the alcohol that remained in her blood stream, her defences remained down for the count. But, unfortunately, her head was no longer fuzzy She took in another breath that almost seemed painful. "I'm not going to stop fighting for those kids, Jack." Her eyes no longer met his as she backed away from him slowly and made for the door, "Someone has to."

Marsha - now practically fully sober and ready to call it a day - shook her head slowly and sadly before sneaking out the door of the lounge and making a beeline for her room, leaving Jack to wallow in his own self-righteousness for the seventh night in a row.

> _"Because, you brought out the best of me, a part of me I'd never seen. You took my soul and wiped it clean, our love was made for movie screens."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "All I Want" by Kodaline.


	16. Desperado

> _"Desperado, why don't you come to your senses? You've been out riding fences for so long, now. You're a hard one, but I know that you've got your reasons - these things that are pleasing you can hurt you, somehow. Don't you draw the Queen of Diamonds, she'll beat you if she's able. You know the Queen of Hearts is always your best bet."_

Jack Shepherd was about to break.

He didn't know it, and he didn't even see it coming, but Marsha Holloway was about to take the victory. Even  _she_ was losing hope, at this point, but that sweet breakthrough was close. Just  _one_ more argument,  _one_ more last ditch effort,  _one_ more desperate cry for help and Jack Shepherd would come to his feeble senses. He already was in far too deep, he had an invested interest in those four kids that he'd promised not to develop. There was no going back now.

The night before, him and Marsha had spat horrible words at each other in the lounge - she'd been drunk and he'd wished that he was. It was exhausting, but with every word, Marsha was drawing closer to a breakthrough. Nonetheless, she was giving up. After their tiresome argument last night, she'd told herself to stop trying. There was no more she could do for Jack. Now, all she could do was focus on helping the children  _without_ him, it was her only option.

Tonight, they were about to meet in the  _exact_ same spot under slightly different circumstances. Neither would have suspected that it was after Marsha had given up and quit trying that she'd finally break through to him.

> _"Now it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the ones that you can't get. Desperado, you ain't getting no  younger. Your pain and your hunger - they're driving you home. And freedom, well that's just some people talking. Your prison is walking through this world all alone. You're losing all your highs and lows, ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?"_

Her guard was down.

It had been a dreadfully long day - and she'd been hungover for most of it, to boot - which is why all of Marsha Holloway's defences had thus fallen. She sat alone in the lounge long after the children had gone to bed. She had been too apathetic to even get up to turn on another light as she sat in the semi-darkness of the empty room at a small table. Things were certainly not going as planned. When she was first told that they were going to reinstate the Zenith Program  _years_ ago, they'd all worked furiously to prepare things so that everything would go smoothly when the time finally came.

Well, the time was  _now,_ and things were undeniably falling apart. She'd come to realize that she'd definitely been kept in the dark about many things, specifically, the truth about the original Zenith Team. While she knew that Concussion had turned evil all those decades ago and obliterated the rest of his team save for Jack Shepherd, she was under the impression that it was simply a freak traitorous accident. Which is why she had fully expected Jack to be compliant and understanding about their current proposition for him to come back to Area 52 without struggle.

But, he was  _not_ what she'd expected. And when it was made painfully clear to her that Jack was a man who wanted  _nothing_ more to do with the facility, the people in it, or the memories that surrounded it, Marsha knew that it was time to do some research of her own. Something wasn't quite right. So, she'd cornered Dr. Grant mere  _hours_ after meeting Jack for the first time and forced the ugly truth out of him.

She had been  _horrified_ to learn that the reason behind Concussion's sudden bloodthirst was the government's own greed and apathy. The government that  _she_ worked for. Of course Jack wouldn't want to be back. This place had killed his team, his  _family._ It had ruined his life, and he was still very much wounded from the impact.

She understood now the cause of his bitterness. She saw through the mask that he worse and she accepted the fact that Jack Shepherd was not quite Captain Zoom. The latter was a comic book character based on the most heroic qualities of the former. Jack himself was a bitter, broken man who, somewhere inside was still the hero that he once was but had built up a very thick skin over the years. He was condescending, he was selfish, he was apathetic, and he was downright irritating. There was no changing that.

To a degree, she understood why he shut himself off and refused to participate in training the children. But, there was also a certain amount of uncontrollability about the whole situation. He didn't have a choice in the matter, neither did she. It wasn't ideal, but that was simply how it was. And, given those circumstances, she still believed that he could do better.

She was conflicted. Which is likely why she now sat solitarily in the quietness of the lounge and stared off into the vast nothingness, the forms that she'd been previously working on were now completely forgotten. The day had not gone according to plan. They were behind schedule, everyone was stressed out, and Jack had been worse than usual following their bitter half drunk, half sober confrontation the night before. In fact, he'd avoided her all day, he didn't say a word to her when the two found themselves in near proximity of each other.

Not only that, but he wasn't just simply bitter and sarcastic today - he was downright  _angry._ Which, of course, got them all nowhere. And because they're getting nowhere, Marsha is the one who faces the consequences as Larraby and the others seem to believe that she should have full control over what Jack Shepherd does or doesn't do all day.

Moreover, she'd recently developed this lingering sense that she was being lied to. Or rather, that the truth was being severely withheld. There were certain things about the facility and their current situation that simply weren't adding up in her mind, and that was downright terrifying. But, for tonight, there was nothing more that she could do.

So, she sat there. Her hair loose from the bun that had previously bound it, her glasses God only knows where, and her lab coat discarded. Currently, she was not Marsha Holloway, world renowned psychologist who always seemed to hold the world upon her shoulders. She was just a woman. A woman who was maybe not doing as well under the circumstances as she liked people to believe.

Though it surprised her to hear the door nearby open at such a late hour, Marsha didn't even have the energy to flinch. Instead, she slowly and warily looked up from the emptiness to meet the eyes of Jack Shepherd himself. Who else would it be? She had inferred by now that there were plenty of sleepless nights for the man, which is when he tended to find himself in the lounge in the middle of the night, drowning his sorrows in a cup of coffee at some ungodly hour. She so often did the same with her late-night herbal remedies.

Jack raised his own tired eyebrows once in acknowledgement of her presence, but said nothing. He was mad at her today, and he'd done a pretty good job of conveying that. He'd barely  _looked_ at her let alone talked to her all day, and he wasn't about to change that now. Silence remained between the two of them as Jack moved towards the back of the room to plug in the coffee maker, but he suddenly was being flooded with intrusive thoughts about the woman who sat robotically before him and her affiliations with the facility.

He tried his hardest to look away, to bite his tongue and move on, to let her suffer in his silence for at least one day. But, eventually he gave in to the certain things that he'd been meaning to say to her. Knowing the two of them, it wouldn't be a pleasant conversation. But, he'd had a shitty day, so he was ready for anything. He'd come to realize that she was always trying to figure him out. Night after night, she'd berate him with argument after argument, trying to get through to him. Now, it was time for the tables to turn.

When he now found himself standing at the other side of her small white table, Marsha looked up from her work once more and awaited whatever it was that the man had to say to her.

"You're not  _stupid."_ He began vaguely, a sharp edge already lingering in his voice. From where she sat, Marsha didn't have the energy to roll her eyes, so she merely stared at him in confusion as she waited for an elaboration that was hopefully coming. Jack clenched his jaw as he spoke, his anger was nearly overwhelming. "Everyone I've ever known who's worked for this place has been so goddamn  _brainwashed_ that they don't even have any thoughts of their own left."

Marsha shook her head once slowly, still unsure of what he meant by all that. "You don't strike me as someone who's all that  _stupid."_ She blinked as he continued to speak and wondered why he didn't just take a seat in the chair opposite her as opposed to remain standing. "So, what in the  _hell_ are you doing in a place like this?" Marsha had assumed that last night's argument paired with Jack's ever-present bitterness was what had him in such a foul mood today. She'd had no idea that it was her own enigmatic presence in his life that was doing him in.

Because of her tendencies, Marsha couldn't help herself from reading into his words. In a strange, hostile way, he was offering her a compliment. Area 52 was the thing that Jack hated most in the world, she was strangely glad that he was struggling to associate her with the facility. "It's not all bad." She said finally, in a voice so weak and quiet that Jack had to look away. It was pathetic, she wasn't convinced if she meant a word that she said.

" _Yes,"_ he said strongly, clutching the back of the empty chair across from her, "yes, it is. This is a place that tears people apart. It wipes out entire  _livelihoods_ and doesn't think twice about it. And I on't believe for a  _second_ that you don't know that." Jack's temper was rising, as it tended to do when he felt strongly about something. It was almost embarrassing for him to admit to himself that she could cause him such chaotic internal conflict. As much as she annoyed him and as much as he didn't want to allow himself to trust her, he couldn't help but view Marsha Holloway as an angel surrounded by demons that worked at the facility.

"Now, I  _know_ you're not stupid, so that means  _what,_ then? That you're just plain  _evil?_ That this whole selfless innocence is all just an  _act,_ which I hardly believe it is?" At least that was something.

She didn't really know what to say. Of course, the real reason that she'd taken any kind of interest in this facility at all was because she secretly harboured metaphysical abilities of her own, but she couldn't just  _say_ that. "This is my job." She said simply, but again, her voice told him that there was something she was neglecting to mention.

Jack sighed sharply and shook his head, getting nowhere. "I think that what you're doing is nothing but naive." He spoke bitterly as she glared silently. "Putting your faith and trust in anything and anyone who asks. You're only going to get hurt in the end." He said, as if she didn't know what it was like to be hurt which he should know by now was a false claim.

The truth of the entire matter was that they were just two very different people. They'd both dealt with pain and hardships in their past, and they were both scarred from those horrors. But, the difference lies in the way that they came out of it.

Jack retreated. He closed himself off to the possibility of good in order to keep out all pain. Whereas Marsha opened herself up to goodness because she likes to be reminded that there is more pleasure than pain out there. Good can come from bad and bad can come from good, it was a chance that she was willing to take. But, Jack and Marsha's coping mechanisms did not live harmoniously with each other.

"So,  _what?"_ She said quietly but as sharply as her exhaustion would allow her, "You'd rather me live in  _fear?_ You think I would rather be alone and miserable because I'm always scared of getting hurt?" She wasn't trying to start a voice, the fatigue in her voice clarified that. But, Jack still countered.

"This  _place,"_ he began in disgust, referring clearly to Area 52, "it feeds on your weaknesses. The people here know how to use the things you care about against you. Take away your power." His eyes darkened as he spoke, how he hated the military. "You think I'm miserable because I don't give a shit about those kids and this new team you're trying to create?" He now chuckled bitterly, " _No._ No, I'm not that stupid."

Marsha had every intention of arguing hastily. She wanted to tell him just how wrong he was, she wanted to fight with him because it was the only way she could fight  _for_ him. Instead, her voice nearly broke as she looked into his cold, loveless eyes. "But," she stuttered quietly as her voice wavered slightly, catching him off guard as he stared back, "it's... you're... you're all alone." She whispered the last words of the sentence, suddenly unable to fathom how in the world he was living like that.

Jack narrowed his eyes in what must have been surprise. The woman sitting before him  _truly_ cared. She was distraught over  _him._ She was being thrown for a loop simply because  _he_ was miserable. He had never experienced something like that before. "Sure," he said, the loneliness no longer fazed him, or so he'd come to believe, "but, there's a damn good reason for that. Because, look where I am. Back here in this  _damn_ hellhole. At least, this time around, they can't do anything to me." She remained quiet as he spoke, though there was a pleading desperation behind her blue eyes, "I have nothing left."

He didn't even realize that what he'd said was a lie until after he'd spoken.

At least he realized it at all. Because, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that if the woman that he was currently speaking to was threatened here and now, he would go to the ends of the earth to keep her safe. And, when he realized that, he clenched his jaw shut in order to prevent verbally cursing himself. What the hell was happening to him. He was  _always_ in control of what he felt. In control of every single situation he'd been in since the incident decades ago and in control of every one of his emotions. How could he let this happen?

He had been going far out of his way for  _years_ to keep himself from ever caring about anyone or anything. But, this was something that he couldn't quite control. Clearly. And upon realizing that he did in fact care for her, he also realized that he cared for the kids. But, that wasn't all. He wouldn't want to see a complete stranger hurt because of him. He would always be a hero in that capacity, it wasn't a quality that could just disappear from a person. So, in other words, he was screwed. And because of this realization, his words became bitterly angry once more.

Marsha continued to stare at him and began to speak words that truly had nothing to do with what he'd just said. "I don't think you're bitter because of what they did to you." He had to hand it to her, there were times when she could be positively daunting. "I think you're bitter because now you have nothing. You won't  _let_ yourself have anything."

Jack glared at her, "You  _know,"_ his voice was louder now, disturbing the fragile silent ecosystem of the room, "maybe I was wrong before, maybe you  _are_ just stupid." He began to turn away, regretting ever saying anything. She was impossible, he should have known better.

Instead of allowing him to get the spiteful last word, Marsha gathered up her things and stood from her seat, staring at him all the while. "I don't care if you think I'm stupid. I don't care if you think I'm the most  _naive_ person in the world." She stepped closer to him, clearly about to make her way out of the room. "I would rather be hurt  _countless_ times but still experience a bit of love and joy in my life than live the way that you do."

Jack shook his head, "When you get hurt beyond repair, you'll be telling a different story." He said facetiously, glancing between her two eyes as he spoke to her, he was sure that she could see the hatred behind his own.

"You think I've never felt any kind of  _pain,_ Jack?" She questioned, "Maybe  _you're_ the one being naive. You're certainly the one who needs to come to your  _senses."_ She moved past him, but he decided that their conversation wasn't quite over, so he turned around to stop her from leaving.

"Oh,  _what?_ What, now you're just going to write me off as  _crazy?_ Is that what you're good at, what with being a  _shrink_ and all?" They were arguing now, no longer were their voices soft nor hushed.

Marsha stared at him in disbelief, shaking her head slightly. "I know you have plenty of reason to be on guard, I know that you think the things you care about can only ever hurt you in the end, but  _yes._ I  _do_ think that's crazy."

"Right, so if  _that's_ crazy, then I should just be like  _you,_ instead. Is that what you want?" He countered.

"I never said -"

"You want me to  _open_ myself up to everyone and everything, regardless of whether or not it's all going to go for  _shit_ in the end? I should just be ready and willing to get hurt and watch everything I care about burn around me, that's what  _you_ do?"

"I -" She tried to argue, but he continuously interrupted.

"Well, how has  _that_ turned out any better than me, huh? Because, here you are, sitting alone in the middle of the night at some  _military_ base like a  _robot._ If you're doing  _so_ much better than me, then where's  _your_ family? Where's your husband, your kids, where's  _your_ life?" He was going too far, and he knew that, but he wasn't in any mood for stopping. "All of that is  _just_ as nonexistent for you as it is for me. So, don't pretend that  _I'm_ some miserable sob story and  _you're_ out living a perfect  _storybook_ life. You know how I  _know_ that everything you say is  _bullshit?_ Because, you actually  _want_ those things, and you don't have them. Whereas I have  _no_ desire for any of it, and that's how I live. Just how I want it."

When he saw the pain in her eyes but couldn't quite pinpoint where exactly it came from, he realized something. One, that he'd stepped over the line. Two, that this whole time, he'd always been told that he was the hero, everyone thought that he was. But, maybe he'd been nothing but a villain all along. Regardless, this time around, Marsha wasn't going to sit back and take it. His words didn't cut her as deep as other things in life had, she had thicker skin than he might believe.

"I  _never_ said that you should be anything like me." She said, but her voice was dripping with hurt. "I'm saying that there are certain things that a person shouldn't just  _go_ without for the rest of their life!" And just like that, their argument had picked up yet again.

Jack scoffed and narrowed his eyes, clearly believing her to be acting ridiculous. " _Yeah,_ like  _what?"_

"Like  _love!"_ Marsha suggested desperately, "Happiness, joy, satisfaction!"

" _Love?"_ Jack rolled his eyes in disgust, he'd written off  _love_ years ago. "You really  _do_ live in a fairytale world, don't you?"

"Life goes on, Jack. Just because you refuse to move from a dark place doesn't stop the world from turning. You're never going to get any younger and you're never going to get any more time than you've got. I  _know_ that you're driven by hatred and self-preservation, and I  _know_ that you have no interest in hearing anything that I have to say, but I don't  _care."_

For what might have been the first time since they'd met, Jack forced himself to just shut the hell up for once. He was  _listening,_ mainly because she was now standing very close to him and the smell of her familiar perfume had rendered him intoxicated. " _Yes,_ I'm a  _shrink,_ but that means that I'm  _educated_ on subjects like loss and desperation and coming back from traumatic experiences. And in  _every_ case I've ever seen or read about,  _love_ is the one thing that never fails to utterly  _save_ people. You have to let people  _love_ you, if you ever want to get anywhere."

To his credit, Jack did not roll his eyes in disgust this time around. Instead, he suddenly became fully aware of the freckles on her fair cheeks and the tinted redness of her lips. Not only that, but he realized a few things in this moment. She was  _not_ stupid, she knew her shit. Also, she cared for him in ways that he had never known anyone could. And finally, that the sound of her honey-like voice was something that he suddenly decided he wanted to hear forever, even if it  _was_ berating him.

"Not only that," she narrowed her eyes as she went on, "you have to let  _yourself_ love. Before it's too  _late."_ After looking into his eyes once more to ensure that he had nothing more to say once she had said her piece, Marsha blinked her cares away and turned fro him, heading towards the door. Before she could leave, Jack was in front of her yet again, this time with a warning.

"Don't try to get inside my head." He practically growled, as she stared into his lifeless eyes. "It's too dark for you,  _sweetheart."_ With those final words, Marsha left the room.

> _"Desperado, why don't you come to your senses? Come down from your fences, open the gate. It may be raining, but there's a rainbow above you. You better let somebody love you before it's too late."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Desperado" by Eagles.


	17. The Scientist

> _"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you, tell you I set you apart. Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions, let's go back to the start. Running in circles, coming up tails, heads on a science apart. Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard."_

After Marsha had left the room, an eery emptiness fell upon the darkness. Jack suddenly felt colder, as if he'd been wearing a coat that had suddenly been ripped off of him and he was now standing to face frigid temperatures unguarded. It was seeing that desperation behind her eyes that really broke him. And, just like that, he was ready to follow her. He didn't know what would come of it, perhaps nothing more than another deadend argument, but he needed to see her again.

He threw open the door to the lounge, heading out to the hallway, only to find her nowhere in sight. Instead, he came face to face with Dr. Grant, and one look into his expressive aged eyes told Jack that the man had just heard everything.

"I think it's time that we have a conversation, Jack." Dr. Grant's voice was serious, more serious than it had been in a very long time. Of late, he'd been playing the part of the clumsy oaf, the lovable idiot around Area 52 who also somehow managed to be a world renowned biochemist tampering in physics. But, all that aside, he played one more very vital role at the facility. He'd been one of Jack Shepherd's closest confidants back in the day, he'd been like a father to him and the rest of that star-crossed original Zenith Team.

There had been a time when he'd known everything about Jack, the two had trusted each other like family. And the truth of the matter was that with the exception of very few lucky people, Ed Grant knew Jack Shepherd better than just about anyone in the world.

All that being said, things had changed. Him and Jack hadn't seen each other in decades, bridges had been burnt and painful truths had torn them apart. During this time, Dr. Grant had made a new accomplice to take under his protective wing - Miss Marsha Holloway. She'd come to the facility at the young age of twenty-seven as a pretty young woman who had been beaten and battered by the world. She was looking for a home, looking for her safety, and waiting for her superman. And now, Dr. Grant was the only one at Area 52 who knew just about everything there was to know about Marsha's dark past. He was the king of hearing people with tragic backstories and making them his own responsibility.

And now, his loyalties were being compromised. Because, Jack Shepherd was back and he needed a friend more than ever. Though, they hadn't been very  _friendly_ of late, Grant knew that he'd still be able to get through to the man one way or another. The trouble came from the fact that Jack and Marsha were constantly at odds. As loyal as Grant had always been to his old friend  _Captain Zoom,_ he now held his reservations towards Marsha, who had become like something of a troubled daughter in his greying eyes.

He loved them both, that was the long and short of it all. And he wasn't about to sit back and let them destroy each other, not on his watch.

"Listen, Grant..." Jack began, shutting his eyes in premature irritation, "... I'm really not in the mood." He glanced behind Grant, still looking for any lingering traces of the woman that he'd just had a bitter argument. Grant noticed that Jack spoke with such a carelessness, an apathy that he had never known the man to possess, and it infuriated him. A harshness washed over Grant's eyes as he steeled himself for the next bit.

"I don't give a damn  _what_ kind of mood you're in." The older man's voice was as cool as stone, and Jack glared up at him, suddenly - but rightfully - on the defence. "I am  _sick_ and tired of the way that you're acting. It's high time you pull yourself together and come to your senses, there's no room here for your childish hostility and  _pointless_ grudges."

Now, Jack stood in anger and began to pace around the hallway rather ominously. " _Pointless?"_ He narrowed his eyes, "You're really going to stand there and try to tell me that the grudge I hold against this place and everyone in it for  _murdering_ my team is  _pointless?"_

" _Yes!"_ Jack hadn't been expecting his ex-mentor's response. "Yes, it  _is._ Because, what are you  _doing_ about it? Absolutely,  _nothing._ You're letting it  _rot_ within you and the only people that your anger is actually affecting is those around you who actually  _care_ and are trying to help you! If you  _really_ held such a grudge, you would be front and centre, using your power to try and change the way that things are done around here to prevent similar tragedies! Not moping around causing trouble for those kids."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Grant."

"Like  _hell_ I don't!" Grant gestured with his hands as he spoke passionately, "Your mistrust and your anger that's been  _decades_ in the making isn't affecting anyone who you actually  _want_ it to! You really think that  _Larraby_ gives a damn about your  _feelings?_ But, the children? You're throwing away their only chance at success during a positively  _terrifying_ time for them! And  _Marsha -"_

Jack shook his head with a look of disbelief as he waved away whatever it was that Grant had to say about their bespectacled friend, "Don't bring  _her_ into this, she has nothing to do with any of it."

"She has  _everything_ to do with it!"

" _Besides,"_ Jack continued, "she's already tried to tell me  _everything_ that you're saying, so whatever you're thinking that you're going to manage to accomplish here... I promise you, it's futile. She's not going to manage to get through to me and, let me tell you, she's got far more tricks up her sleeve than you do." Jack hadn't been referring to any hidden aces that Marsha was hiding up her sleeve. He was speaking of the things that she didn't even realize were working in her favour when it came to him. But, it was true, a beautiful woman with blue eyes and a sparkling smile would far easier compel Jack to listen to her than an old man in a lab coat.

"See,  _this. This_ is what I'm talking about." Grant shook his head, he couldn't understand the monster that Jack Shepherd had turned out to be. He'd only ever known him as a hero. "Day after day, night after night, she's trying her damn hardest to make you see the truth, to force you to  _sober_ up and do the right thing."

" _Yeah,_ and it all means nothing to me!" Jack had always been a good liar, "She works  _here,_ she's hiding things and I know it. I don't trust her for a  _second!"_

" _Yes,_ you do." Grant nodded, "And  _that's_ what's got you so angry. Because, you trust her uncontrollably, and we all know how much you rely on  _control."_

Jack scoffed and shook his head, his facade beginning to falter, " _No,_ I could never trust anyone as  _hazardous_ as her, and you know it."

"She doesn't know  _anything,_ Jack." The older man tried his hardest to get through to him, "I  _know_ you know how things work around here, there are secrets and lies and manipulations. We work for the  _government,_ there  _has_ to be. But, being someone who  _knows_ all there is to know, I'm telling you right now that she's kept in the dark. She has to gather information on her own resources, which I'm  _sure_ she does." Before Jack was about to call bullshit on Grant's statement, he continued. "And,  _you?_ You're going to  _ruin_ her, and you act like that means  _nothing_ to you."

Dr. Grant was right, Jack  _acted_ like Marsha's pain and struggling affected him in no way at all. But, underneath his layers and layers of strong defences, Jack  _hated_ what he was doing to her. "She's doing it all to herself. If she looks at me and sees anything other than someone who wants  _nothing_ to do with any of this, then she's crazier than I thought. I've told her time and time again to  _quit_ with the hassling because it's not going to work. To stop whatever it is that she thinks she'll accomplish with me. If she doesn't listen to those warnings then it's on her."

Grant took in a deep breath, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd known the man standing before him since he was a pre-teen. He'd watched him develop into a rowdy teenager and then into a courageous man who held the weight of the world on his shoulders - a hero who would stop at nothing to do what was right. He now stared a stranger in the eyes. A stranger who was either very good at hiding his true feelings, or who truly was empty inside.

"I don't even know who you are, anymore." Grant said coldly, and Jack was nothing but pleased. He  _wanted_ them all to know that there was nothing that could be done with respect to trying to force him back into the Zenith Program. But, more than that, he wanted them to see the monster that they'd singlehandedly created. "There aren't many people in this place who actually give a damn," Grant continued, "who actually  _care_ more about human people than doing their jobs. Marsha Holloway is one of those few people. And, instead of  _cherishing_ those qualities in her, you use them as reasons to  _hate_ her."

Now, Jack ran a hand through his hair and looked away, speaking breathily as if he was whispering to no one but himself. "I don't  _hate_ her." Finally, a speck of truth from Jack Shepherd. "I  _hate_ this facility. And she chooses to work here, she chooses to align with the people who killed my team. I can't trust anyone around me, and I sure as hell can't start taking advice from someone as high up on the food chain at this place as she is."

"Has she ever given you reason  _not_ to trust her?" Grant pressed, "Because, as far as I've seen, she's been more loyal to you than anyone else here!"

Jack clenched his fists and shut his eyes momentarily, "That's not low life works, Grant! You can't go around assuming everyone is trustworthy so long as they're not betraying you to your face! That's precisely how  _she_ lives, and it's only a matter of time before it all comes back to bite her!"

"Life's  _already_ bitten her,  _Jack!"_ Grant shouted now, as if everything had been building up to this very moment - the moment of truth. Jack was silent for a moment, eyeing the man before him suspiciously, wondering what on earth he knew about Marsha Holloway. Jack had read the file, he knew that some bad shit had gone down in her past, but he had no idea  _what_ it was nor just how bad it was. But now, what with that file as well as Grant's passionate outburst, all signs were pointing to Jack having been wrong about Marsha.

The first time he'd ever laid eyes on the woman, he'd assumed that she was nothing more than an attractive woman in a green dress standing outside on a hot Californian street. He then discovered that to be untrue when he got close enough to realize that she wasn't just  _that._ She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And then, of course, she revealed herself to be a part of a much grander scheme. That all should have been his first clue that Marsha Holloway would forever surprise him. After all that, how would he have been so stupid as to assume  _anything_ about her?

He'd been so concerned with not allowing himself to trust her for fear that she'd betray his confidence that he had failed to even consider the fact that she may not be who she says she is, but in a far different sense than he'd originally believed. Besides, he saw that there was something behind her eyes that screamed  _broken._ It was time to face that reality.

"The hell does that mean?" Jack pressed on after the contemplative silence between the two of them had grown rhetorical.

"She's not who you think she is." Those were the words that Jack had been prepared to hear with respect to Marsha. It was the very reason that he refused to admit to anyone that he trusted her more than she could ever know. But, not in this particular context.

Grant struggled to get the words out, fearing that he was betraying Marsha's confidence by shedding some light onto her very dark life. "You live your life dwelling and obsessing over what happened in your past.  _Yes,_ it was awful and no one on this planet should have to face tribulations such as yours. But, you're not the only one here with a tragic backstory."

Jack remained silent, he shoved his hands into his pockets and straightened his posture, he didn't know what to say, but he didn't want to interrupt. Instead, he allowed Grant to continue, "You see her how everyone else sees her - like some invincible force to be reckoned with that no one will ever break. You stomp all over her and she rallies and comes back swinging with a smile on her face. You can't seem to ever break her, but have you ever thought to consider why that is? It's because she's  _already_ broken. Broken by something  _far_ worse than your bitter words could ever be."

Jack lowered his voice, "How would you even know, Grant?" There were those bitter words, as mentioned previously.

" _Because,"_ Grant looked around himself in disbelief, "she's worked here for ten years! And me for  _forty!_ And, unlike  _you,_ some people actually form working relationships and care about their coworkers. There are things in her past that you wouldn't even  _believe._ Things that, quite frankly, make your tragic past  _pale_ in comparison."

Jack was ready to discredit him and his statements, but he suddenly needed to know more. He remained quiet. "She's got secrets that you can't even begin to fathom, and believe me, she knows  _all_ about what it's like to not trust a soul in the world. You like to think that the two of you are like fire and rain, you think that you could never have any thing in comparison, you think that she's nothing but naive to behave the way that she does and she can't understand why you allow yourself to remain so bitter and closed off." 

Grant shook his head slowly as he spoke, allowing the truth to resonate with Jack. "You have more in common with that woman than you know, I think you should remember that before you shut down her opinions and her desperate attempts to shake you from whatever decades long unconsciousness that you've induced upon yourself."

Jack was silent for a moment longer, but unwilling to admit that what Grant had said really had shaken him. Finally, he gritted his teeth and put on his infamous act, "What does it even  _matter,_ Grant?"

"It matters because you're out here living your life worrying about who could possibly betray you. You're terrified of trust when you really have no reason to be. Whereas, she's been given a  _million_ reasons never to trust anyone again and yet she goes around giving her very heart and soul away to anyone and everyone. Including you! This isn't about  _your_ betrayal, it's not about  _your_ tragic past, it's about  _hers!_ It's about how she's the  _perfect_ example of betrayal! Because, anyone she's ever trusted has broken her, and I won't allow you to be just another name on that list. You're better than that."

Jack sighed bitterly and leaned back against the cool wall, he didn't know what to think. He'd only known the woman for a week, how could  _his_ position in her life possibly be so important to Grant? "You act like she isn't _berating_ me all the time for the sake of the _kids_." Jack argued, "That's the only reason she even  _tries -_ she's fighting for  _them._ I don't know how this goes beyond that."

"That's hogwash, and you know it." Grant shook away Jack's futile argument. "It's never been about those kids. It  _became_ about them, because you're right, they  _do_ need someone fighting for them. And if that person isn't going to be you, then it might as well be her. But, it's not about them. It's about  _you,_ and you're not blind, I  _know_ you see that. She's fighting for  _you,_ she wants you to get your life back, to be the man that you once were and still could be if you'd only let yourself  _show_ it. She sees that in you, not many people do. And you hold that against her."

Jack glared at Dr. Grant in brooding silence as the man continued to berate him in a familiarly fatherly manner. "It's time for you to shape up. You're here now, you're not getting out of this. Deal with it however you'd like, but  _don't_ drag her down with you. I won't stand for it."

Grant had finished his speech and wandered off down the hallway after placing a hand on Jack's shoulder to indicate the end of his presentation. After Jack had wallowed in his own self-disgust for a few minutes out there in the dark hallway, he'd turned in for the day.

He'd fallen asleep for  _one_ hour.  _One._ And during those sixty minutes, he dreamt of her. Looking beautiful and getting the shit beat out of her. Standing in the darkness of a green dress, not the same green dress, though. This one had originally been long, reaching all the way to the ground, but it was now torn and covered with dirt around the hem. Her brown hair was blowing in the wind and there were tears on her face.

She was far away from him, but he could still see every move she made, every breath she took. He watched from afar as dozens of different people - some familiar, some strangers - walked up to her and took a swing, kicked at her, slapped her face, pulled her hair, shoved her to the ground.

And Jack just stood there. Letting it happen. Knowing that he could run to her and fend off her offenders, but remaining lifeless and merely observant. Because, he knew that going to her aid would mean two things - one, that he was still the hero that he had once been, and two, that he cared for her. Neither of those things were facts that he could consciously - or subconsciously, apparently - admit to.

After that treacherously long hour was up and he awoke in a sweat, he took a shower, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. It was three in the morning, and he was ready to start the day. What he would do for the next three hours until the rest of the facility awoke, he didn't know. He was currently sitting on the foot of his bed, entranced as the vivid memories of those god-awful nightmares flooded his mind mixed in with various encounters he'd had with Marsha recently that weren't very pleasant, until a frantic knock on his door shook him to his senses.

> _"Take me back to the start. I was just guessing at numbers and figures, pulling your puzzles apart. Questions of science, science and progress do not speak as loud as my heart. Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me, and I rush to the start. Running in circles, chasing our tails, coming back as we are."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "The Scientist" by Coldplay.


	18. Changes

 

 

> _"Still don't know what I was waiting for, and my time was running wild. A million dead end streets and every time I thought I'd got it made, it seemed the taste was not so sweet. So, I turned myself to face me, but I've never caught a glimpse. How the others must see the faker, I'm much too fast to take that test. Changes, turn and face the strange. Changes, don't want to be a richer man, there's going to have to be a different man. Time may change me, but I can't trace time."_

 

 

The next morning, something in the very air had shifted.

Jack awoke feeling not only refreshed, but disgusted with himself for the way that he'd been acting of late. He was willing to let his guard down ever so slightly, if only for the sake of the children. Of course, what both Marsha and Grant had said to him last night was the true reason for his change of heart, and he was now avoiding them like the plague to prevent himself from ever having to admit that.

For the first time since he'd been shoved back into the Zenith Program, Jack was determined to put some thought into training the kids. Of course he had gathered some information throughout the week, he truly  _did_ know just how to train the team, and today he was about to prove that.

While Jack ran around the facility looking for the people that might be able to help him with what came next following his recent epiphany, Miss Holloway paced around a quiet classroom as the children awaited their instructor. She'd just finished her class with them and it was now time for Jack to take over. He always showed up, even if he hadn't put any effort into training them, he had no choice but to show up. But, this morning, they all began to fear the worst when twenty minutes passed and his absence persisted. Marsha worried that it was her words from the night before that finally sent him running.

As she watched the clock with a heavy heart, she suddenly felt an uncontrollable frustration rising up within her. But, contrary to how she'd been feeling for the past week, this frustration was not aimed at Jack himself. He was who he was, Marsha was now irritated that she'd ever assumed she could change that. She had no idea why she was  _still_ waiting for that man to do the right thing, and she was utterly exasperated with herself knowing that she likely would  _never_ stop believing that he was a hero.

Precisely why she attempted to appear unconcerned and hopeful as the kids sat at their desks near exhausted with boredom. Even if she felt utterly defeated inside, she was the queen of putting on a convincing front. Underneath her masking smile, she was now developing a massive sense of guilt. What if all of her relentless attempts at prompting Jack to come to his senses had finally driven him away for good? What if she was singlehandedly responsible for making sure that those kids  _never_ got a real leader? She wouldn't be able to live with herself were that proven to be true.

Finally, she attempted to suggest that they continue their lesson without Mr. Shepherd and as her voice nearly cracked with disappointment, the man himself came through the door with characteristically charming ease. "Sorry I'm late," he began as he caught her surprised eye from the other side of the room, "I had to get my team together." The shock that Marsha initially felt produced by whatever change of heart Jack Shepherd was currently experiencing quickly morphed into total and utter awe.

She was unable to prevent herself from smiling slightly in his direction as he came towards her, and Jack took note of her demeanour, realizing that their relationship would likely change drastically now that he was shaping himself up to play the hero that she'd always believed him to be. He cast a teasing look her way before coming to stand beside her without meeting her eyes, "You almost look  _happy_ to see me." He noted playfully, referring to the fact that they certainly hadn't been very  _friendly_ with each other of late.

And he was right, of course, she  _was_ happy to see this particular version of Jack. If the two of them weren't careful, they might just accidentally cast their irritation with each other aside and allow a certain fondness to blossom. Little did that know, that  _fondness_ had already been growing between them, they just hadn't acknowledged it quite yet.

Within the next  _two_ days, the progress finally being made by the team was noticed by all around the facility, including General Larraby himself who seemed to have removed whatever stick had been up his ass just long enough to appear vaguely  _pleased._ Jack's eyes had been opened slightly, not all the way, but it was a solid start. The children's success was, of course, made possible by his transition from bitter to bitter but  _invested._

Jack had now come to terms with the fact that he truly was being ridiculous in not allowing himself to put the wellbeing of the children before his own long withstanding fears, and that was all chalked up to someone repeatedly bringing this fact to his attention in order to allow the change to be made. And speaking of that particular person, Jack realized that he hadn't seen much of her since his change in character.

This was mainly merely due to the fact that he'd been so busy with the newfound interest that he'd discovered in training the kids, but also the fact that he was  _dreading_ having to admit that she was right to her face. Nonetheless, he knew for a fact that since none of his current success could have been possible without her, it was time to swallow his heavy pride and offer up something in the vague form of a gesture of gratitude.

So, Jack Shepherd had smartened up.

And all it took was an entire  _week_ of relentless arguments from Miss Holloway and disapproving remarks from Dr. Grant. But  _finally,_ he'd managed to get over himself long enough to put in a little effort and just like that, the kids had finished their initiation training. Though things were far from perfect as Jack remained perfectly bitter throughout training, tensions for that particular evening had been seemingly steadied around the facility.

The children had been off celebrating their temporary victory with a cake in the cafeteria while Jack himself had recently indulged in a moment of weakness under flickering fluorescent lights and confessed to Marsha Holloway that he believed  _her_ devotion to those kids was what had lead them all to success. When he saw that particular look in her eyes, he knew that there would be no taking back what he'd said. And he frantically begun to wonder if  _he_ too was looking at her that same way. Frankly, he didn't want to know the answer, it was far too dangerous.

So, he'd fought against ever cliché instinct that he possessed and did  _not_ lean in to close the space between them when the moment called for it. He did not brush a stray lock of hair out of her face, he did not take her cheek in his hand, he did not meet her lips with his own. Instead, he left her standing there in that cold, dark room, alone. And now, he too found himself alone, sitting behind an electrical panel that secretly lead to a small room where him and his old team used to hide away in when reality became too difficult to face back in the day.

Jack almost regretted his supposed change of heart. He suddenly felt the weight of his investment on his shoulders, and he had no idea what to do with it. There were so many things that he was currently risking, and they were all things that he'd promised himself not to even acknowledge. He didn't want to lose the team, he didn't want to lose his respect, he didn't want to lose any supposed trust that he'd gained and acquired, he didn't want to lose Marsha's affections, and all the while, he wasn't even sure that he truly  _had_ these things to begin with.

Besides, there were still things that he couldn't quite ignore, like his blatant distrust for the facility. Sure, he was training the kids now, but it was all for the sake of them being able to look out for themselves against  _whatever_ threat came their way. He couldn't disguise the fact that he was losing respect for Area 52 with every passing day, and he hadn't begun with much esteem for the place.

Now, as he clenched his fists and walked back to his room in the dead of the night, his mind raced. What was he  _doing?_ Throwing himself into the team like that could only come back to bite him in the end, wasn't that what he'd been saying all along? Nonetheless, there was no going back now. He needed a drink, or a cigarette, or  _something._ But, none of those things were easily acquired in a military base.

Instead, he came across something that could have been just as addicting. This time around, him and Marsha hadn't even been seeking each other out in the name of argumentative purposes, they'd merely stumbled upon the other on their respective ways to calling it a night. Marsha wore a pleasant smile on her face, and Jack immediately knew that he'd lead her astray. He shouldn't have so freely acknowledged his change of heart, he was now regretting it all.

But Marsha, as oblivious as always, hadn't even taken note of his vastly different demeanour. Jack now stood with a metaphorical raincloud over his head, while she was beaming like a ray of sunshine. That's how the comparison between the two of them had always looked, it hadn't changed with the circumstances. She carelessly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and acknowledged his presence in the darkly-lit hallway. "Kind of late for a stroll around the facility, isn't it?" She suggested good naturedly, acknowledging the fact that it was close to midnight and neither of them had gone to bed yet.

Jack raised an eyebrow with a nod, "Could say the same to you." He tossed out the apathetic comment, he was currently second-guessing his contributions around the base, yes, but she was managing to soothe him a little bit as he fell into his flirtatious ways.

"I suppose." She blinked with a remaining smile, "It was such a good day, I'm hardly ready to accept the fact that it's over." There were stars in her eyes, he could  _see_ them, and he was fully prepared to snuff out their light.

"Yeah, listen, about that..." Jack began, a harsh edge to his voice that prompted Marsha to take a defensive step back. She knew this routine, she knew what came next, and she crossed her arms in prepared defence, "... this isn't some big miracle, okay?" He merely wanted to clarify things, to suggest that his kind-hearted words earlier were due to his lowered inhibitions and the fact that she wasn't wearing her glasses, he hadn't meant to start an argument. But, the bitterness in his voice made that inevitable, "I'm just going to get those kids trained and ready to fight whatever the hell it is that's coming their way, I'm not about to put on some suit and step back into those comic books that everyone loves so much."

Marsha lowered her eyebrows in confusion, where was all this coming from now? "No one's asking you to do that, Jack." She tried to argue, suddenly feeling a rather familiar confrontation coming on.

" _Yes,"_ Jack said sharply, his voice now raised slightly, "yes they  _are,_ Marsha.  _You_ are. You're standing here thinking that just because I'm going to start doing my  _job_ means that I'm going to be a completely different  _person."_ Marsha looked hurt as he spoke, she thought the he knew her a little better than that, perhaps she was wrong. "I'm still  _me,_ and you still don't  _like_ who I am. That doesn't change because my tactics do."

"Jack..." She began timidly, but he continued on his tangent.

"So, if you think that our troubles are over, that's not true. It's about as far from the truth as it'll get."

Marsha put a hand on his arm to prevent him from walking away and entering his room, "I don't expect you to  _change,_ I know that's not how this works, Jack." She shook her head, "I'm just happy that you're getting along with the kids, why can't you just let that be  _okay?"_

Jack brushed her hand off his arm, " _Because,_ Marsha. There's no point in pretending everything is going to be perfect now that initiation is finished. You and me still won't get along, I'm still not going to trust the people around here, I simply now have an invested interest in those kids."

The hurt in her eyes did not go unnoticed by him, but he didn't care if he was being harsh as he stepped away from her and left her standing alone for the second time that night. He slammed the door to his room and sat on the foot of his bed as an intrusive memory sprung to mind. Contrary to those that he'd endured throughout the past two decades, this particular memory was not of some tragic event that happened all the way back in the eighties, this was merely something that he'd witnessed a few days ago at best.

He had been standing outside of a door to one of the facility's smaller conference rooms that was often used for impromptu meetings or presentations. He'd been merely wandering aimlessly around the base in search of a little bit of trouble when he'd come across the room that had currently been housing a few familiar faces. Though the door was heavy, Jack had still managed to make out the few muffled words coming from Larraby, who had clearly been on the verge of rage at the time due to whatever anger and stress the man was dealing with.

Jack didn't know how no one managed to notice him eavesdropping from outside, the room was basically one big  _window._ But, he'd also never known the Area 52 staff to be the smartest bunch in the world, contrary to popular belief. Larraby had been speaking to Miss Holloway, who stood at the front of the room looking rather out of place among the uniformed men. Not only that, but she looked utterly  _confused._ As Larraby confronted her in a strained voice, Jack only managed to pick up bits and pieces.

"Miss Holloway," he'd said, "if you can't  _train_ those kids well enough, I'll have no  _choice_ but to..." of course, the most important piece of the message had been muffled to Jack's ears. Nonetheless, he could easily fill in the blanks, and the threat wasn't particularly pleasant. "We have an  _imminent_ threat!" Larraby spat out, before Jack perceived a familiar voice speak up tentatively in response to the man's warning.

"Well, sir..." Marsha's tone was cautious at best, she needed answers if she had any hopes of success, but she also knew that Larraby's temper was fiery, "... it might help if I knew what the imminent threat  _was."_ Jack was rather glad to have heard those words, because if it told him anything, it was that she truly was as clueless as she acted. He decided that it was time to step in, and he did so, regardless of consequences. As he entered the room in a charmingly lighthearted manner, he could practically  _feel_ the tension in the atmosphere as all dialogue came to a halting stop.

"I didn't know we were having a meeting." He said, only half jokingly. Looking around the room, Jack noticed that some people looked surprised to see him, others seemed relieved given the distraction, and  _one_ person in particular - a brunette with pink lips and a lab coat - was looking at him so  _sharply_ that he knew he'd be dead a few times over if looks could kill. "Hey." He tossed out in her direction, teasingly acknowledging her irritation and threatening glare.

After realizing that the look of warning in her eyes truly did spook him a little bit, Jack looked away from Marsha's livid stare and continued to joke around sarcastically even though he knew that it would inevitably lead to him being removed from the room. "I heard the words  _imminent threat,_ what is -" his sarcastic banter was interrupted by Larraby, who was now positively fuming.

" _Shepherd,"_ his booming voice filled the room, "this is a meeting for people who  _matter."_ Larraby now acquired a second thought as he glanced beside himself towards Marsha before deciding to add to his declaration, "And Miss Holloway."

Jack positively grinned like a schoolboy upon noting the sour look on Marsha's face following Larraby's unintentional insult. When she noticed his glee at her own degradation, she glared back at him coldly and not long afterwards, Jack was quickly escorted out of the room, as predicted, and the meeting continued without him.

Initially, Jack hadn't thought too much about this incident, he'd been too delighted upon witnessing the monumental burn to Marsha's character. But now, as he found himself alone to bask in the silence of his own solitary, he replayed the scene over and over again in his mind, trying to piece together the words that he'd picked up on.

Larraby had been threatening something against the team should they not be  _ready,_ and Jack could only imagine just what that was. Marsha had been in the meeting, and she'd made it clear that she hadn't been informed of whatever threat was on its way, but Jack had no idea if she remained blissfully ignorant to this day. He suddenly forgot that he could trust her.

He thought of her now, unwillingly. And when he thought of her, he could hear the unmistakable sound of familiar high heeled shoes on laminate floor. He nearly smiled as his subconscious conjured up the spirit of the woman that he'd come to feel so conflicted about over the course of the past week. He was sure that his surrender had calmed her, but he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Perhaps there were things that he now understood about her but still failed to acknowledge. Like the fact that her contribution to the new team was vital, and how he was willing to bet that had his original team had someone like her in their corner, they might have been better off in the long run. How they were lucky to have her, and that was that.  _He_ was lucky to have her.

Because he was slowly but surely realizing that perhaps she was  _not_ Area 52's double agent. She was not the  _facility's_ inside source. She was the  _team's_ secret weapon, and she was the ace up  _his_ sleeve.

Nonetheless, Jack was worried that his relationship and feelings for her were forever tainted by the rough week they'd had. When Jack peered out his dirty window that day and saw a beautiful woman in a green dress walking down the street, he had no  _idea_ that she would be his undoing. And for that reason alone, he  _had_ to hate her, didn't he? For twenty-one years, he'd had  _one_ goal in life, and now she'd managed to derail his whole life. And for that, maybe he  _did_ hate her.

He didn't know. For such a closed off, bitter man, he certainly had more emotions than he knew what to do with. He knew what he felt for the team - he wanted to protect them. But, Marsha? Hell, he didn't even know where to begin. He couldn't  _stand_ her, he didn't agree with the things she said, he didn't appreciate her constant arguments, he didn't  _like_ her. Then why did he still manage to crave merely being around her? He adored the way that she looked when she argued with him, he dreamt about the sound of her honey-like voice, nothing soothed him more than the smell of her perfume. Nothing about the way that he felt for Marsha Holloway added up.

> _"And so the days float through my eyes but still the days seem the same. And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations, they're quite aware what they're going through. Strange fascinations fascinate me, changes are taking the pace I'm going through. Pretty soon now you're going to get older, time may change me, but I can't trace time."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Changes" by David Bowie.


	19. I Don't Know

> _"I've got crows at my window, dogs at my door, I don't think I can take any more. What am I doing wrong? I don't know. My brother told me, 'life's not a pain,' but, that was right when it started to rain. Where am I going wrong? I don't know."_

What a week it had been.

Probably one of the worst in history for certain residents of the military base. Though it had seemingly had a happy ending with the finalization of training initiation. Marsha Holloway had known Jack Shepherd for that one week, and already he had managed to exhaust her past the point of no return. All her life, she'd been enchanted by this real-life hero,  _Captain Zoom,_ how he was proud of his powers, celebrated for possessing them, how he was someone who always did the right thing, who was selfless before anything else.

And then, she met him. Of course, it wasn't really  _him,_ it was a washed up version that had been out of practice for twenty-one years. It was Jack, the philandering, self-righteous, bitter alter-ego. And then she realized,  _yes,_ that really  _was_ him. And she really didn't know where to go from there. Because, as much as she did not like that person, she  _definitely_ liked him.

On the surface, she couldn't stand him. She didn't like the way that he took his anger out on the world around him, it certainly wasn't something that he would have done if he still acted like the hero that he truly was inside. She'd realized upon meeting him for the first time that her dreams would all soon be crushed as she got to know the real him, because Captain Zoom did not exist anymore.

Jack Shepherd was all that was left, and he was a  _real_ person with real flaws and real disadvantages. And he was someone that she truly despised. She couldn't handle anything about him, but the trouble came from her inexplicable attraction to him. Maybe in the beginning, it was all thanks to the fact that he had once been the hero that she'd so admired, but now they were well past that point. Now, she couldn't explain why she found herself secretly pining over him and his brooding ways, it wasn't like her.

She didn't like men like him. She was drawn to positive, academic, sharply-dressed optimists who shared her interests. Not wounded, bitter men who'd never been anything less than pessimistic around her. Of course, he was very physically appealing, there was no hiding that, but she'd always been a lot smarter than simply becoming blinded by a man's blue eyes, perfect hair, and muscular form. So  _what_ was it about him that made him so attractive to her? She feared that it was not something that could be explained nor put into words.

The week had been harsh, but that particular night had been nothing short of disastrous. He'd surprised her that morning with his change of heart, and taken her aback later by confessing his appreciation for her. But, then it had all come crashing down when they'd argued outside of his room and he'd slammed the door, leaving her to face the rest of the night alone and confused. Their argument had been  _raw,_ it had convinced her that she truly had burned the bridge between the two of them even if she'd succeeded in persuading him to help out the team.

She hadn't slept since then, instead she found herself sitting alone in her room, pacing around as her mind flooded with panic. One thing was for certain, she wanted him to like her. Of course, it would be ideal if he'd like her in the same way that she liked him, but that might have been a pipe dream at this point. Therefore, she'd settle for simple friendliness and general appreciation.

Well, it was clear that it might not even be possible at this point, they were in far too deep. The frustration, the irritation, and the misunderstanding emotions that were so ever-present between the two of them that they had completely overpowered anything else that might be lingering. They looked at the world in two different ways, and they were basically genetically predispositioned to counter each other in every way imaginable.

Not only that, but Marsha had been officially assigned to the Zenith Program as their team psychologist. She'd be responsible for training the children mentally to prepare them for the future battles that they would face, but there was much more to it than just that. She'd also been sat down with General Larraby himself and he'd told her that, as a psychologist, it would be her job to talk some sense into Jack Shepherd - who would inevitably be bitterly blinded by his hatred for the facility, the past, and himself.

It should have been easy, she'd worked as a therapist for many years prior to taking the position at Area 52, and she truly did have him all figured out within a day of knowing him. But, actually getting through to him was the hardest part. Sure, she knew  _what_ he needed, but how to make him realize that was the tricky part.

The hardest part of it all for her was that she wanted them to be friends, at the very least. She didn't think that it would be smart nor beneficial to have the two of them constantly at odds, not if they were supposed to be mutually training the kids. It couldn't work that way. The kids couldn't have their two adult mentors fighting like children and spreading their hatred for each other to the rest of the team, it wasn't fair to anyone.

But, there was also the personal aspect to it all. She might not  _like_ him, but she still respected him and who he used to be, she still believed that somewhere, deep down, he was still that valiant hero that he once was. And she truly did know that one day, those qualities would rise to the surface once more. She was going to do everything in her power to make that day come as soon as possible, to help him embrace his best life and be his best self, and she so desperately wanted to be there alongside him when that day came. That was where the problem lied.

Because, she'd studied him meticulously - psychology-wise, of course. She'd concluded that the only way to get through to him might be to berate him verbally. He flourished when he was challenged, and he seemed to fight with her easier than with anyone else, so they would have to continue to do so. Continue to spew poisonous words back and forth until they  _hated_ each other, but he came to terms with the truth.

The hardest part was that when he finally did realize the truth and revert back to his heroic ways, he would likely hate her past the point of reconciliation for all that had been lost in the fire of their passionate arguments. Even if she'd been solely responsible for dragging him out of the darkness, he'd hate her for what she said to him, he'd be annoyed to hell and back by her irritating confrontations, and he'd want nothing more to do with her.

It devastated her, because he was her hero. He'd always been her hero, and he always would be her hero. How crushing would it be for her to have her own  _hero_ hate her? There had been moment throughout the week when they would catch each other off guard and have a friendly interaction, there were even fleeting flirtatious encounters between the two of them that would set her oblivious heart into a tandem and bring a blush to her cheeks.

But, those moments too were tainted by the immense amount of arguments that they'd been having. Every morning, nearly every time they'd found themselves in any kind of domestic setting together throughout the days, during training, and especially at the end of the days when they'd both find themselves finishing up an argument outside of Marsha's room only to have it finalized by the harsh slam of her door.

Today had been worse than ever before. Because Marsha had finally seen that end of the tunnel, and he'd lead her to initially believe that he didn't even hold her arguments against her. In fact, he'd been  _appreciative_ to her. But, by the end of the night, that had all come undone. She saw that dreaded hatred in his eyes, and she didn't know what to do with herself. And now, as she anxiously paced circles around her room, she could somehow  _hear_ the heavy rain that was relentlessly pouring in the desert outside.

Finally, she'd managed to fall asleep for a few hours before the start of yet another painful day. Things were different, hopeful for everyone but her. The others were glad to learn of Jack's sudden investment in training the kids, and Marsha was too, of course, but she was dejected beyond belief to see that her fighting had cost her their entire relationship. 

Usually, a new day meant a clean slate, but when Jack and Marsha had ran into each other making coffee in the scientist's staff room that morning, they didn't even look at each other. Of course, there was no way for her to know that Jack didn't hazard a glance in her direction because he wanted to be mad at her, and he knew that one look into her oceanic blue eyes would tip the balance of his carefully composed fabricated hatred.

During training, they'd finally looked at each other, but there was violence behind their eyes. Even though Jack was now suddenly very vocal about how he wanted to train the kids, they now found that perhaps that wasn't the greatest turn of events. All the two of them did was argue over training techniques and Jack's persistently harsh attitude as he did so. The shots fired became more personal and vile than they usually were, and everyone who'd witnessed the fight would agree that it had been nothing short of a mutually detrimental massacre with no living victims.

Later that day, when Marsha had nearly run into Jack in the doorway when she'd attempted to enter the lounge, instead of steadying her with his warm hands and giving her a teasing smirk as he usually did, no matter how bad of a day they'd both had, he rolled his eyes impatiently and stood up taller, sharply telling her to watch where she was going before leaving her presence. He was getting sick of it, he couldn't keep looking at her and seeing such vulnerable expectancy in her eyes. Sure, he was working for the children now, but he still wasn't going to be able to make her happy in all the ways that she deserved. Besides, if she would never be able to even  _consider_ his point of view, then he would have noting more to say to her.

Of course, Marsha knew that this was merely a repercussion following his recent breakthrough. But, he didn't see it that way. He saw that he'd taken a dramatically risky step into the unknown territory of enthusiasm, and knew that him and Marsha were getting close to coming across a fallout that they would never be able to recover from. And at this point, he didn't really see the harm in that.

They despised each other, they never really got along, they were always either fighting or flirting and lately they'd just been performing the former and neglecting the latter, so what were they even fighting for anymore? Marsha claimed to be fighting for the children, but that feat had already been accomplished. Jack had broken down, he was now willing to fight for the with the same gumption that she clearly possessed. Nonetheless, he would always be wrongfully suspicious of her. He'd begun to wonder if she was just fighting for the sake of the facility, because they needed more puppets trained and ready to fulfill each and every one of their orders. And if he was going to let the children into his concerns, he  _had_ to remain on guard around anyone with ties to Area 52. It was the only way that he could keep his team safe.

The reality of it all was that Marsha was continuously fighting for everyone  _but_ herself. She was fighting for the kids, because they deserved a leader like Captain Zoom. She was fighting for Area 52 because it was her home and because she knew that it would be safer for everyone if they just received the success that they were working to achieve. She was fighting for the world, because wouldn't if be a better place if it had a new and improved Zenith Team watching over them? But above all else, she was fighting for Jack Shepherd. Because, he'd endured tragedy unlike any other and he'd been suffering in a very dark place for decades, and it was time that he opened his eyes to the light.

He deserved to relish in some happiness, gain some hope, endure a little faith every once in a while. He'd been alone long enough, it was time to change that. But, in fighting for all of these potentially lost causes, Marsha Holloway was standing on the hill that she was going to die on. She was burning her bridges left right and centre as she threw her loyalties around like candy. Though she knew it was all for the common good, she herself would simply be the collateral damage that she'd have to live with. Her hero would hate her, she wouldn't get to be a part of the team that she'd helped to create, she would be forgotten and distrusted among familiar faces at the facility, but all would be well when the bigger picture was taken into consideration.

That was just the price that psychiatrists paid, she should have been used to it by now. A broken person came to her, she fixed them up with all of her tape and glue, and she sent them on their way, knowing that they'd be better off for it. But, she never got to stick around and enjoy the newly replenished person that she'd helped to create, she never got to relinquish the enjoyment of the happiness that she'd offered them. It was easy with her previous patients, why did it all feel so personal this time around?

Maybe because she was subconsciously - and certainly uncontrollably - falling. Falling for the man that she couldn't stand, falling for someone that she likely could never - and possibly should never - have, who quite honestly probably hated her. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, she wasn't falling for Captain Zoom, the valiant comic book hero who was out to save the world. She was falling for the sarcasm, the humour, the charming wit and relentless acidity of Jack Shepherd. But, if he didn't hate her, he was well on his way, she was making damn sure of that.

A point that was solidified when nightfall finally rolled around yet again and they'd encountered each other yet again in the hallway leading to her room that was irregularly lit thanks to those various fluorescent lights that were burnt out or flickering on the ceiling above them.

She was quite honestly in no mood to argue with him, but she'd made it her sworn duty to attempt to get through to him whenever she possibly could, so she gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and bit the bullet. Just because he'd agreed to train the kids and was obviously making great progress in that corner, her work was not finished. Because, nonetheless, he still needed an attitude adjustment.

There were some nights when he would actually wait by her room, knowing that she'd have to go to sleep eventually, so that  _he_ could argue with  _her._ That's when it became clear to her that they were so very close to that desired breakthrough that she could practically taste it. And  _no,_ not the breakthrough that had lead him to put some personal investment into the kids, that breakthrough had already happened and honestly, it was minuscule. She longed for the argument that finally made him see that he didn't need to hold the death of his original team over him forever, that he could move on and wipe away the guilt while not suppressing it.

But, tonight, he clearly had no interest in even  _seeing_ her. Nonetheless, their argument came on quickly, and it eagerly began to spin out of control. Words were said that were actually regretted, arguments were made out of bitterness and the desire to inflict pain. It got personal, they both mentioned things that hadn't been said before, and it was utterly appalling, worse than ever before. Needless to say, neither of them had lingered after the door had slammed between the two of them. Instead, Marsha kicked off her shoes violently in her room while Jack stormed off down the hallway, still fuming at her.

> _"But, it's alright, sleep tight, I will take the strain. You're fine, love of mine, you will feel no pain. Well, I see trouble at every turn, I've got so many lessons to learn. What am I doing wrong? I don't know. Now what's the matter with me?"_

It was one in the morning when Marsha realized that she couldn't take it any longer. She  _hated_ arguing with him in such a bitter way as they'd taken to doing. It was different when it was short quips here and there or just a bad day, but when it was relentless and personal, it began to take a toll on her as it spiralled out of control. She  _needed_ to fight him, in order to get him where he needed to be, she knew that. But, her own feelings were getting in the way of that. And maybe it was selfish and maybe it was a mistake, but she found herself slipping into a pair of flat white shoes and running out of her room in the dead of the night hours after their disastrous argument.

Jack hadn't been sleeping. In fact, he hadn't even changed out of his clothes yet. He'd been dwelling, for the second night in a row. On the past, on the present, on the future, on the children, on the words that Miss Holloway was constantly launching at him, but mainly on the accuracy of them. He knew that his attitude had always been the problem, and that agreeing to train the children wouldn't solve everything so long as he was constantly and bitterly lingering in the past.

He couldn't exactly help it, though. He'd spent decades building up those indestructible defences that prevented him from getting attached or involved with anything or anyone of substance, he was in no position to cast them  _all_ aside and just open himself up to trust and the possibility of getting hurt once again. So, he had to forcefully tell himself that while she was right about him having a duty to protect those children, she was also  _wrong._ He did not  _need_ to be here, it wouldn't be what was best for everyone, himself included. He could train the kids and invest his own bit of passion into the new team, but once that was done, he needed to be as far away as possible from this destructive facility and all of its lies and deceit as possible, that was the only thing in his life that he knew for sure. And if she had any sense at all, she'd recognize this and get the hell out of there herself.

He was surprised to her frantic knocking on his door at this hour, but it wasn't the last thing that he was expecting in a place like this. Any number of things could have provoked this spontaneous late night disaster that was likely about to prevent itself before his very eyes. He opened the door quicker than she'd been expecting him to as it  _was_ one in the morning, but open seeing that he still wore his work jeans and button-down grey shirt from earlier, she realized that he hadn't been asleep by no means.

Seeing Marsha standing at his door in such a state, Jack wondered just what had happened. He was expecting her to tell him that the kids had just been marched down to the old injection room and blasted with radiation, perhaps that a nuclear bomb was about to go off above them, maybe that there was an execution team coming down the hallway at this very minute to finally put an end to the biggest problem at the facility -  _himself._ What he wasn't expecting, however, was for this to be a personal visit.

Especially since she'd seemed so flustered and distraught. Jack couldn't possibly imagine that  _he_ could produce such emotion from her. She wore the same clothing that she'd been wearing all day, but had a cardigan around her top half to keep her warm as opposed to her regular oversized lab coat and had swapped out her usual high heels for a pair of flats that made him realize just how much farther downwards he had to tilt his head in order to meet her eyes.

Her glasses were nowhere to be seen and the ponytail that she'd worn her hair in earlier was gone as well, leaving her windswept - though, he knew that the  _wind_ merely came from how fast she'd likely made a beeline for his room - hair to fall down her shoulders. She seemed exhausted but frenzied all at the same time, and there was a look of genuine panic behind her blue eyes that he could have sworn might have been laced with tears. She looked so different from the polished, ever-presentable woman that he spent his days with who never had a strand of hair out of place and always stood tall on her stiletto heels. Well, as tall as she could get, anyways, which wasn't anything to write home about.

She was out of breath and looking at him in such a desperate way that he wondered just  _what_ he was going to have to deal with. Clearly, she needed a moment to gather her panicked thoughts before she spoke, so he straightened his back, rested an already irritated hand on the doorframe, and rolled his eyes. " _What?"_ He demanded, prompting her to get on with it.  _Just tell me who died,_ Jack thought morbidly.

"I -" Marsha began, and her voice sounded utterly broken. Jack realized then and there that he  _hated_ seeing her like this, no matter how different the two of them may be and regardless of how vicious their arguments managed to get, he didn't like to see her in this condition. He lowered his eyebrows as a familiar feeling of dread began to rise up inside of him, something must have been seriously wrong. She was attempting to spit out the words that needed to be said, but it was clearly easier in theory as she clenched her fists together and looked as if she was in serious physical pain, "- I don't want you to  _hate_ me." She finally said, and Jack was suddenly filled with surprise.

 _That_ was what the issue was? It was one in the morning an she'd been pounding on his door looking like someone had just dropped dead only to tell him that she was worried about their  _personal_ relationship which, at this point, seemed rather nonexistent? An encounter like this was dramatic, it was exhilarating, and it was uncharacteristic for the two of them. He had to say, he was relieved to say the least. And he'd never said it aloud, but it also served as a bit of an ego boost for him. She was so concerned about what he thought of her, to the point where it kept her up at night and sent her into a whirlwind.

He would have begun to chuckle at her endearing antics had he not been so utterly shocked at what she'd exclaimed. " _Hate you?"_ He reiterated, glancing between her eyes in confusion with the hope of catching a glimpse of an easier truth. She nodded with pursed lips, clearly this was really bugging her. "I don't know what..." Jack began, but he realized that he had no idea where he was going with his spewing words, "that's not... where is this even  _coming_ from?" He was seeking some kind of clarity, an explanation as to why he'd managed to put her in such a state of disarray.

"All we do is  _fight!"_ She insisted, and the fearful look in her wide eyes never settled. "I'm not  _blind,_ I can see that I probably  _irritate_ you out of your  _mind!_ I just, I  _can't..."_ she let her sentence trail on unfinished, worried that she wouldn't be able to piece together an articulate phrase in order to get her complicated point across.

"Marsha," he began, still rather confused as he shook his head at her, "it's  _one_ in the  _morning."_

"I  _know,"_ she whispered tensely, before pausing for a moment to look up at him,  "I just don't want you to  _hate_ me." She pulled her cardigan tighter around her body in a self-comforting attempt, but when Jack noticed a desperate tear fall from her eye and stream down her cheek, he realized that he couldn't stand one more second of seeing her standing out there in the hallway alone. He sighed almost concernedly and put a hand on her arm, stepping to the side as he pulled her into the privacy of his room. Whatever was responsible for this uncharacteristic breakdown, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Before turning back to face him, Marsha miserably wiped the tear from her face before facetiously smiling to herself. How ridiculous she must seem to him. After she heard the door close, she turned around to look him in the eye, waiting for him to speak as she no longer knew what to say. "I don't  _hate_ you." He said simply, supposedly leaving no room for argument though the look in h is eyes told her that while his words might be true for now, he also possibly thought she was insane.

"Maybe not," Marsha began, taking a step closer to him so that she could better read his face, "but you  _will._ If we continue like this, if I don't stop fighting you about  _everything."_

"So,  _stop,_ then?" Jack suggested, shaking his head once more at her, wondering why she was making such a big deal about all of this.

"No," Marsha's voice was but a whisper as she blinked and shook her own head, averting her eyes as she thought, " _no,_ I  _can't_ do that." She finally looked back up at him and allowed their eyes to meet once more, though it didn't seem to reassure her in the slightest. "Because, if I do that, then you'll  _never_ get to where you need to be and all of this will have been for  _nothing!"_ Her words didn't make much sense to him due to the hysteria that she was clearly suffering from, but she spoke with such an urgency that put him on edge.

"All of  _what?"_ Jack asked, still confused.

"Don't you  _see?"_ Marsha spoke as if it should have been obvious, but she truly was spiralling out of control. " _All_ my life, you've always been my absolute  _hero."_ Her eyebrows pulled together, revealing just how shaken up she truly was. "And  _now,_ I would rather have you  _hate_ me than see you go on living the bitter, empty life that you live!"

There is was - the truth. It was harsh, it was dirty, and it was out in the open. And now, Jack realized what all this had been about. He understood, he'd always been the good guy in her books. Everyone had their heroes, and he'd always been hers. Now, she came face to face with him only to realize that he was merely a man. Not only that, but he was a man who didn't quite live up to her expectations. Nonetheless, she wanted to help him, but she also wanted him to like and respect her in the same was that she admired him.

Unfortunately, both were not mutually possible, it was one or the other. But, because she was such an insufferably selfless person, of course she would rather  _fix_ her hero for the benefit of himself and others than have him appreciate  _her._ Even if it meant he hated her for the rest of his life, she wanted what was best for him. That was the hard-to-swallow truth of the matter.

"I -" he began, though he now found himself nearly at a loss for words as he stepped closer to her, wanting nothing more than to console her but he just didn't know how, "I don't hate you." His own voice was low, nearly matching her broken whisper. "i don't think I ever  _could,_ for that matter." Jack knew that due to how bad their relationship had gotten and how distressed she now was over it, it was time that he give the woman a small glimpse of just how much she meant to him, without revealing the entire truth. Marsha stared at him as he spoke, desperately searching his eyes for any signs of deceit, a glimmer of something that told her that he was only being nice. She never found anything.

Now, she was caught off guard. She'd expected him to possibly insist for the sake of her own feelings that perhaps he'd never hate her, or never want to hate her. But, for him to freely admit that he never  _could_ hate her, that was something that she didn't see coming. Nor could she see how it was at all possible. "You..." she began, "...  _yes,_ you  _could."_ Marsha thought that he simply wasn't understanding, but she was wrong - he understood perfectly.

" _No,_ you can  _annoy_ the shit out of m, but I could never  _hate_ you." She shook his head, his voice was almost bitter now.

"You don't  _understand -"_ Marsha attempted to argue, but Jack shut her down as he raised his voice slightly and spoke harshly.

" _Because_ , you want to know  _what_ irritates me the most about you?" It almost sounded as though they were about to strike up another bitter screaming match, which certainly wasn't what Marsha had meant to ignite by showing up at his door. "The way that your  _eyes_ light up when you argue with me, the way that your  _smile_ is so goddamn  _perfect._ The way that instead of  _fighting_ back, I want to shut you up by  _kissing_ you. The fact that no matter what you say or I do, I'm always going to  _want_ you in the  _worst_ possible way!"

Now, she saw that he had a right for his words to be coming out harshly, they were a revelation at best. They shocked her to her very core. "And I  _can't..._ I can't  _deal_ with that right now, so it's going to come out in the form of  _relentless_ arguments and  _bitter_ words that _yes,_ you certainly encourage whenever you can!"

The room fell silent for a moment as the weight of his words sunk in. Marsha felt her bottom lip quiver upon hearing what he'd said. n her mind it seemed  _impossible._ This was not only  _Captain Zoom,_ world famous hero, telling her that he wanted  _her,_ of all people. But, it was  _Jack Shepherd,_ the womanizing philanderer who always did nothing but argue with her and who ran far away from women like her and straight into the arms of those who would take him into their beds but not their hearts.

She couldn't quite believe what she'd heard. But, after it had all settled in nicely, she knew that she needed to say something, and that  _he_ needed to  _do_ something. That was always what they'd been good at. She was good at using words to display her feelings, and he was good at using actions. Now, it had all been flipped upside down. Because he'd just been pretty  _damn_ articulate in telling her just  _why_ she irritated him so much, and now it was time for her to encourage an action. They were  _way_ out of their comfort zones, but there was no turning back now.

Marsha was still blinking away her shock as Jack clenched his jaw and awaited her reaction. He hadn't meant to confess quite so much, but it had been festering inside of him since day one, it was out of his control. "You..." Marsha began weakly, shaking her head slightly as she took a tentative step close to him, "... you  _can't_ really... how could you..." She was at a loss for words, but the point was made.

Now that she was close enough, Jack could easily see the cloudy look of desire that had overpowered her sapphire eyes. Jack's usually racing mind had come to a lull, he very rarely felt as though he was in complete understanding of his emotions, but right now, looking at her, he was in a peacefully terrifying state of acceptance. Instead of speaking any more truthful words, Jack suddenly lost control of his own actions and suddenly he had one hand around her waist and the other brushing by her cheek before resting it on her face as they stared at each other in anticipation, closer than they'd ever been before.

Marsha's knees nearly gave out beneath her as she sighed silently, feeling all tension in her body released through the validation of his touch. She hadn't realized just how  _badly_ she'd wanted to see him like this, looking at  _her,_ of all people. She found her hands resting on his chest, as they basked in the moment of uncertainty. There was one clear move to be made next, but neither knew if this was the time or place. Surely all the right words had been said and all the appropriate feelings had come into play, but the timing may have been off.

Jack tangled his hand in her hair at the back of her neck and sighed sharply as he shut his eyes and moved his eyes away from her, clearly deciding  _painfully_ that they were about to make a mistake that they wouldn't be able to take back. Marsha realized this too and knew that he was right. In turn she shut her own eyes and tilted her head down to rest on his chest dejectedly with a sigh of her own. What were they thinking? It was ridiculous at a time like this and they both knew that.

It would be different if they were just two people who shared a basic physical attraction to each other. Perhaps they would have begun a mutually satisfying physical affair way back when on the first day of all this madness. Instead, it was clear right off the bat that there were deep, intense feelings coming into play. And for that reason, things would have to wait.

"I'm sorry for barging in." Marsha whispered into his chest, now sounding more like herself as they both became lucid.

"Don't be." Jack untangled his hand from her hair and moved it from her shoulder down her arm as they pulled apart.

"I'd better go." She stated surely, giving him a look of understanding.

"See you in the morning."

> _"Am I right, am I wrong? Now, I started to see, I must try to be strong. I try to love you as best as I can, but you know that I'm only a man. Why am I going wrong? I don't know."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "I Don't Know" by Paul McCartney.


End file.
